


The Ultimate Power

by Mr_Bilinski



Series: Morality Bites [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Because life isn't nearly confusing enough for Stiles, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic!Stiles, No action this time, Questioning Morality, Romance, okay maybe a little, scira - Freeform, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3795280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Bilinski/pseuds/Mr_Bilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After he erased Scott's memory of him killing the phoenix, Stiles battles the guilt that continues to eat away at him for the choices he made that night. As he continues to struggle with the fact that he can't really turn to anyone about it, Stiles finds himself spiraling deeper into a depression and relying on his power for strength.</p><p>Derek also struggles with jealousy, and after an accident, starts to question if he's what Stiles really needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Isolated

**Author's Note:**

> So, here is the third and final part of what I like to call, the "Spark Arc". Unlike the first two, there aren't any big baddies in this one. Well, not in the typical sense. ;)

It had been two months since the night everything changed. The night Stiles had crossed so many lines, he wasn't even sure if he was worth the effort of saving.

He thought it would be safer to kill the phoenix after he took away her memory. He couldn't let her go walking around spontaneously setting things on fire because she had no clue she could do it. And he definitely wasn't going to risk her memory coming back so she could attack them again. 

But that look of fear in her eyes; it was horrific, like he was the monster. Truth be told, he was starting to agree with her.

'She did blow your friend's house up, with three of your friends still inside,' he reminded himself in his mind, 'It was the right thing to do.'

But if it was the right thing to do, then why did it feel so wrong?

'She would have killed all of you, dude.' he thought to himself, 'She didn't need a second chance; she had plenty of them already. You did what you thought was right. You wouldn't have done it if you didn't, so stand by it.'

And what about Scott? Was he right to erase his memory of it?

'You were protecting your friendship,' his internal voice reasoned.

Yeah, but by manipulating his friend's mind? He didn't have the right to do that, no matter the circumstances. But he couldn't reverse the spell anyway, because Scott, Isaac, and Melissa were living in his house now and he wasn't about to share his house with a pissed off alpha.

'Maybe, but it sure as hell beats living a lie, doesn't it?'

What the hell was that supposed to mean? 

'It means he thinks the two of you are fine and you're really not. He was serious about staying away from him and the pack, so how is anything about this current situation truthful?'

Stiles groaned as he tried to bury his head deeper into his pillow. He furrowed his brow as he ignored the vibrating phone that was currently buzzing on his nightstand. He'd spent the last two months locked away in his room, not speaking to anyone longer than it took to say, "Hi", "Bye", or "Not now; I have a headache."

He reached up and grabbed his phone, his guilt flaring up when he saw it was another text from Derek,

'I know I'm not one for talking a lot, but you're starting to freak me out, Stiles. I'm worried about you.'

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated replying to it. After a couple minutes of debating, he finally caved and texted back,

'I'm fine. Just not feeling well.'

He sighed a few moments later when his phone buzzed again,

'I'm coming over to take care of you.'

Stiles' eyes widened in slight panic as he quickly texted back,

'No, God, no. I don't need another day full of pillow fluffing, k? I'll be fine; I promise.'

He felt bad for turning him down, mostly in part because he really wanted to see Derek, bordering pretty close on needing to, actually. He just didn't feel like facing anyone yet, not until he could get past this.

"Take it from someone who knows; you'll never get past it unless you stop caring. And you can't," the phoenix said with a smile from where she sat in Stiles' computer chair, "it's in your nature to care "

Stiles gave her a sideways glare from the corner of his eye as he crossed his arms behind his head, then looked up at the ceiling, "You're not real."

The phoenix's smile grew as she slowly swiveled left to right in the chair, "If that's the case, then why do you keep talking to me?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Because you refuse to leave me alone?" He offered in an annoyed tone.

She chuckled gleefully, "Well, it's kind of hard to leave you alone when I'm a figment of your imagination."

Stiles groaned, "If that were the case I wouldn't imagine you being so annoying."

"Well, you could always try to erase the memory of me with a spell. I hear that's your specialty."

"Stiles?" Isaac's voice asked from the other side of the door, "Is there someone in there with you?"

"Nope, just...thinking out loud," he replied as he shot the phoenix a glare. He then glanced toward the door and waved his finger, unlocking it.

Isaac slowly turned the handle before he gingerly pushed the door open a crack and leaned his head in, "Are you ready to talk about it?"

Stiles closed his eyes to fight the urge to roll them as he let out a sigh, "Nope, because there's not an 'it' to talk about."

Isaac growled softly as he lightly tapped his fingers on the edge of the door, his gaze lingering on Stiles as he mentally willed him to break his resolve. When it became evident that his resolve would live to fight another day, Isaac moved back into the hallway shutting the door behind him.

Stiles clasped his hands together and rested them on his stomach as he turned to stare out the bedroom window. When he heard a high pitched sigh, he groaned inwardly and looked over to the computer chair, and immediately wished he hadn't.

The phoenix was lounging in the chair, looking at all of the pictures and posters on the walls as she casually scratched at the bleeding wound in her stomach, "I've gotta hand it to ya, kid; you definitely know how to stab a girl and make it stick. This thing itches like hell."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "That is freaking disgusting. I can't believe I'm hallucinating this."

The phoenix smirked as she tilted her head to the side, "Why not? You feel guilty about killing me, so naturally I'm here, wounds and all. I don't understand why you feel guilty about it, by the way." She turned her head to the side then added under her breath, "Must not have tried to barbecue enough of your friends."

Stiles let out an exasperated sigh, "I feel guilty because you didn't have your memory when it happened."

She scoffed, "And did removing my memory take away everything I did? Is your friend's house put back together? Didn't think so."

"Alright; I get it! I shouldn't feel sorry. I'll throw a damn party. Will you go away now?"

She stared at him for a moment before she sighed, "The only person who can make me go away is you. And in order to do that, you've got to deal with the pain."

Stiles snickered, "I can't believe my hallucination of a pyromaniacal murderous crazy is trying to shrink me."

The phoenix arched a brow, "Alright, well riddle me this: if I'm your hallucination, then that means everything I say is coming from your head. So, I guess I'm not really telling you anything you don't already know, huh?"

Stiles groaned before he got off of his bed and pulled out a notebook. He then pulled a pen out of his pocket and started writing on the page. 

The phoenix arched a brow as she sat up straighter to try to read his writing, "What are you doing?"

"Writing a spell to fix all of this."

She snickered as she grinned, "You can't fix any of this with magic. Well, mostly."

Stiles stopped writing as he looked up at her with a furrowed brow, "What do you mean? What can I fix?"

She shrugged as she gave him a knowing smile, "You know what I mean."

Stiles pursed his lips before he shook his head and went back to writing, "I cast that spell to save our friendship."

"You can't save a friendship with deceit and betrayal."

"No, but considering the only other people who know the truth are you and me, I'd say my secret's safe."

She shook her head judgmentally as she clicked her tongue, "What you do in the dark will come to the light. Just remember that."

Stiles let out another deep breath as he set his pen down and read the writing out loud, "Obey my words, hear the rhyme. Send me back to the place in time. Another chance I ask you to make so I can fix my past mistakes."

He raised his eyebrows as he looked around the room before he slumped in defeat. That was a weak spell anyway. His brow furrowed again when he overheard a conversation Scott and Isaac were having,

"I just wish I knew why he was upset and how I could help him," Isaac confessed in a helpless tone. 

"I know, but he'll come to us in his own time," Scott replied.

Isaac sighed, "I just miss the old Stiles."

"I know," Scott agreed. "I want him back, too."

Stiles mentally kicked himself again before he started to write down another spell. The phoenix rolled her eyes, "You're going to try more magic?"

Stiles grunted before he set the pen down and read the new spell aloud, "I need some help with smiling, laughing. Turn it around so I can be happy."

As Stiles put his hands on the side of his head, the phoenix turned the chair so she was facing the other way, "This is going to end well."


	2. Inferior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm promising you guys right now that NOBODY will die in this story! Of course, that doesn't mean they're all in the clear. 
> 
> Oh, and if you enjoy Supernatural, enjoy the reference at the end.

Stiles had no idea why he hated the idea of having magic at first, because he finally felt like he could physically contribute more to the pack this way. For the past five years he'd watched Scott grow into a true alpha werewolf, Lydia come into her bansheeism, Isaac grow into a stronger werewolf and Allison becoming a better huntress while he stayed Just Stiles.

He wasn't even going to start thinking about Jackson freaking Whittemore becoming a kanima-turned-werewolf, or Kate becoming a werejaguar. He was tired of feeling like the odd one out.

He was tired of feeling inferior.

He kicked a rock out of his way as he continued walking away from the Jeep. He pushed his hands into his pockets as he looked ahead at the tree line of the Preserve. He had to be going insane for coming back here, but a part of him felt like he wouldn't get any closure until he had.

He paused at the tree line and fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he choked out sobs. Why was everything so confusing?

He knew, deep down, the only reason he felt guilty about killing the phoenix was because of Scott. He made the right choice; he knew it. It didn't matter how many times he said it, though, because another part of him refused to let him believe it.

Now he wished the happiness spell had worked, but he figured it wouldn't anyway; still, he had to try. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool ground as his sobs continued to break free despite his inner protests.

"Aw, are you still crying over little old me?" the phoenix asked in a cocky, mock baby tone from behind him.

Stiles sniffled as he sat up and wiped the tears off his face with his arm. He coughed before he closed his eyes and said, "Hear my plea. I call to you, Powers That Be..."

The phoenix smirked, "You know you can't cast the memory spell on yourself to forget about killing me. We've been over this already. You erase that memory, then you erase the memory of casting the spell on Scott."

"Yeah? And what'll be the harm in that?"

"Mm, nothing, I suppose." She said in a contemplated tone, "But you'll be living the life of a coward. And you're not a coward, Stiles. It's beneath you."

Stiles groaned in frustration, "Just go away!" He was taken aback when he turned to glare at her and saw she had disappeared. He must be getting better at handling hallucinations. At least being possessed by the nogitsune left him with one positive thing.

He grimaced as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out. He let out a soft sigh as he swiped to answer and put it to his ear, "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Derek replied in an attempt at a playful tone, "Feeling any better?"

"Uh, yeah, actually." Stiles said as he scratched behind his ear.

"You're scratching behind your ear, aren't you?" Derek asked. Damn it, what was he psychic now?

"Uh...yeah. Why?"

He could hear Derek grunt softly before he said, "You always scratch behind your ear when you're lying."

Stiles gaped, "What? No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. Now tell me what's going on because you've been avoiding everyone for two months ever since you and Scott killed the phoenix."

Stiles sighed as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, "I haven't been avoiding anyone."

"No? Then what do you call ignoring calls, texts, and staying locked in your room all day long?"

"Me time. And I'll have you know I'm not in my room right now, Mr. Inquisitive."

"Tell you what; how about you give me a call when you're not so bitchy."

Stiles pulled his phone away from his ear to glare at it as Derek ended the call. Did he just call him 'bitchy'? Derek Hale, Sourwolf, the Brooding Wolfman, just called him 'bitchy'?

Yeah, he was definitely screwed up if that was happening. He put his phone away with another sigh as he stood up and turned toward the Jeep. He wouldn't call him bitchy if he knew what was going on. Of course, he didn't know, hence 'bitchy'. 

He shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. He needed to tell somebody about what really happened, but what if they blew the whistle on him? Isaac would, Kira might, Lydia probably wouldn't but she'd definitely be judgy. And he couldn't tell Derek. Under no circumstances could he tell Derek. He'd lose him, too and he couldn't live with that on top of everything else.

"What about Paige? I think he'd be able to relate to your situation, don't you?" the phoenix asked.

Stiles rolled his eyes in annoyance before he paused and smiled, "That's...actually a really good point. But he didn't take away his best friend's memory."

"Did he even have a best friend?"

Stiles shrugged, "I have no idea, but that's not my point."

"So? I'm a figment of your imagination; you think I didn't catch that? I'm starting to think you like wallowing in self pity. Spare us all the teen angst and just rip the Band-Aid."

Stiles shook his head, "I'm not reversing it."

"Why not? Who knows, it might get rid of me."

"If I reverse the spell, then I'll lose my best friend. I'm tired of losing people."

The phoenix sighed, "You've already lost him, Stiles; you're just delaying the inevitable. But the sooner you take it off him, the more likely he'll come around and forgive you."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Stiles and Derek were in the loft; Derek on the couch and Stiles standing in front of him with his arms crossed. The teen drew in a shaky breath as he looked at his feet, "I need to tell you why I've been avoiding everyone...especially you. You already know the plan was to erase her memory, but the part I left out from everybody was the final part. I... I knew, when we went to the Preserve, that after I cast the spell she would be too dangerous to let her just walk away.

I..." he sighed, "I killed her, Derek. I erased her memory...and then I killed her."

Derek raised his eyebrows, "That's why you've been hiding? Stiles, you were right to do what you did."

Stiles shook his head as he started to cry. When he spoke, his voice started to break, "Scott was...well, he was pissed. He thought we could teach her to control her powers, but I thought it was too risky. I thought if she stayed around us, or used her powers, something might trigger her memory."

Derek furrowed his brow, "Why hasn't Scott mentioned any of this?"

Stiles sighed, but due to his tears it came out as a choked sob, "Because he told me to stay away from him and the pack and I was afraid to lose everybody, to lose him. So, I erased his memory of the fight and everything."

Derek stared at Stiles in silence as he let the news sink in. Stiles felt like he was starting to shrink under his stare, but he remained still. After another couple minutes of uncomfortable silence, Stiles asked in a low voice, "Say something?"

"What do you want me to say?" Derek asked in response. He finally looked away from Stiles as he shook his head. This was way too much to take in. He sighed, "Take it off."

Stiles furrowed his brow, "What?"

"Take. The spell. Off. You panicked; I get it, but it's the only solution. Your his best friend, and that's what a best friend would do."

Stiles tapped the fingertips of his right hand together nervously, "And if I don't?"

Derek gave him a skeptical look, "Then you're a coward; and nobody respects a coward." He stood up from the couch and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder, "Be brave, Stiles. You've done it for so long, there's no point in stopping now."

Stiles' tears fell harder, "I can't. I can't lose him, Der."

Derek's forehead creased as he watched him break down before his eyes. He leaned into his ear and whispered, "I will do everything in my power to help, but you've got to do it. Take it off, or I'll tell him myself."

Stiles drew in a soft, shaky gasp as he processed Derek's words. As the werewolf walked into the kitchen, Stiles mentally kicked himself with each word that passed from his lips, "Lock my secret in his lips, I seal them now with a kiss."

With a hesitant sigh, he walked into the kitchen, pulled Derek to face him, and locked him in a kiss. When they pulled away, he felt a twinge of guilt twist in the bottom of his stomach. That feeling only grew when he noticed the knowing look in Derek's eyes. 

He furrowed his brow as he wondered how he knew when he mentally slapped himself in the back of the head. He grimaced, "Werewolf hearing."

Derek nodded slowly as he crossed his arms, "We will talk about this later but you're going to Scott and I'm trusting you to do the right thing."

Stiles gave him an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, but if Scott's going to hear it then it needs to come from me first. You're right; I need to be a man and face him." He smirked, "It's not like we aren't equally matched nowadays." He looked off to the side as he contemplated, "Hm, does a Spark beat a true alpha?"

Derek rolled his eyes, "The longer you stall, the more pissed off I'll be later and then we'll be finding out if a Spark beats a Sourwolf. A very, very...very Sourwolf."

Stiles snickered as he turned towards the door, "That's not a Sourwolf; it's a Hellhound. Did you know you actually can't see Hellhounds? Fascinating, huh?" The door shut behind him as he waved his hand to say 'bye'.


	3. Outside Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have been rethinking the story, and I've decided to add a few curves in the road. Also, Stiles has somehow adopted my motto. It works, though. :) Applies fairly well to the story, too. :)

Stiles stepped out of the Jeep with a confident smile. He flicked his index finger toward the car door as he made his way toward the station, the car door shutting behind him. He loved the rush he felt everytime he used his power.

Hey, he doesn't need the Uncle Ben speech; it's not like he's abusing his power. Erasing his best friend's memory of him killing an amnesiac phoenix was an act of friendship, saving it. He understood tampering with Scott's memory sounded abusive, and he could see where all of the arguments against it were coming from, but who was it hurting?

He hated himself for casting that spell on Derek, too, but he couldn't have him running to Scott and telling him. Why was everybody so against him all of a sudden? He wasn't the bad guy, the phoenix was. Weren't they supposed to be stopping the bad guys?

He let out a sigh as he pulled the door open and entered the building, his honey-brown eyes searching for someone particular. He waved politely to a couple of the deputies as he made his way through the building and up to the desk he was looking for.

As he approached the desk, he grabbed a chair as he was passing it and brought it over with him. He set it down backwards and took a seat, resting his arms on the top of the backrest with a smile, "Jordan."

Deputy Parrish looked up from his paperwork and raised his eyebrows, "Stiles." He then lowered his eyes back to the paperwork.

Stiles arched a brow as he watched the young deputy. There was no way that anyone could find paperwork more entertaining than him. Nobody. It was, like, impossible.

He lightly tapped his fingers against the chair as he continued to watch Parrish do the paperwork. After another minute of it, he grew incredibly bored and cleared his throat, "So...uh, Jordan...can I, uh, ask you something?"

"No, I do not know how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop," he replied without looking up from the papers.

Stiles furrowed his brow, "I wasn't--why the hell would I want to ask you that?"

Jordan finally tore his eyes away from the paperwork to give him a pointed look, "Because you're you."

"Oh." Stiles replied as he contemplated that thought for a moment. He then nodded, "Good point. Anywhoozles, I wanted to ask your opinion on something."

Jordan let out a soft groan as he leaned back in his seat, "I'm not sure why you would want my opinion, but sure."

Stiles sighed, "Let's say there was a...creature running through the town."

"A creature?"

Stiles shrugged, "Yeah, you know, like..." He gestured him with his hand, "whatever the hell you are. Anyways, so this creature is really bad. I mean, super evil and you couldn't keep it dead because it can come back to life. So, someone does something and the...creature loses their memory. With me so far?"

When Jordan nodded slowly, Stiles smiled and continued, "Good. Okay, so you can't let the creature just go because they don't know what they are, what they can do, and there's a chance all of that can trigger the creature's memory. What do you do?"

"That depends; how evil are we talking?"

Stiles shrugged, "Really, really evil; as in killing people and...destruction of private property."

Jordan nodded, "Okay, well...honestly, if I thought they would still be a threat then I'd do all I could to protect people from it. What happened?"

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I, uh...sort of, maybe, definitely...killed her."

Jordan slowly arched his brow, his eyes narrowing in question as he slightly tilted his head, "Wherein lies the issue? Do you feel guilty?"

Stiles shook his head, "No, but Scott wasn't particularly pleased." He eyed Jordan before adding solemnly, "Therein lies the issue."

Jordan softly scoffed and shook his head, "Well, it sounds to me like Scott's the one with the issue, so why not leave the worrying to him?"

Stiles let out a short huff. He couldn't tell Jordan the complete truth here; the guy barely knew what he was. The last thing he needed was hearing about another supernatural problem. 

"You're right. He'll come around eventually," Stiles said with a false confident smile. He scratched behind his ear before he stood up and nodded, "Well, thanks for the chat."

Jordan watched him turn and walk away, arguing in his mind if he should say something or not. He inhaled sharply and leaned forward as he spoke, "Stiles?" He fixed the teen with a serious look, "You know you can trust me, right? As long as no one's in, like, mortal danger I won't tell your Dad."

Stiles smirked, "Why do you think I told you about killing the phoenix?" His smirk faltered as he mentally kicked himself for saying that. He opened his mouth to mutter the memory spell before he decided against it and just waved, "Right, well...bye!"

Jordan simply stared dumbfounded as Stiles left. They weren't kidding when they warned him that there would never be a dull moment with the sheriff's son.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Stiles was tapping the steering wheel as he drove. His head nodding to the beat of a song on the radio, he was taken by surprise when he turned it and saw the phoenix smiling at him from the passenger seat.

"Why so jumpy? Honestly, Stiles, you should know better by now. You don't just kill me and walk away; even if I stay dead."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Haven't we already established that you're a figment of my imagination? What the hell do you want?"

She snickered, "Well, if I'm really a figment of your imagination, you'd know." She raised her brow knowingly as she looked on ahead, "Oh, so you are coming to visit..."

"What do you mean? I'm going to the Nemeton."

He immediately slammed on the breaks as realization hit him. Before he knew it, he felt something rather heavy collide into the back of the Jeep, his head butting into the steering wheel. The Jeep slid along the road, sparks flying like waves of light as the metal brushed along the asphalt, until it collided with an SUV.

 

\-------------------------------------

Scott felt a tingling in his head, the sudden image of Stiles killing the phoenix flashing in his mind. His eyes glowed red as anger started coursing through his veins, betrayal stabbing into his heart like a jagged dagger. When he started to consider the possibilities of Stiles' nonchalance, the proverbial dagger in his heart twisted with a jerk.

His eyes slowly faded back to brown as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Stiles had killed the phoenix after erasing her memory...and then he erased his memory of it? What the hell was going on? 

His phone started to vibrate on his bed, notifying him of a text. He furrowed his brow as he considered ignoring it. With a sigh, he picked it up and opened the text from his mom,

'Get to hospital. Stiles.'

His eyes flashed red again before he sent a text to Derek, telling him to meet at the hospital, then dashed out of the room. When he came up to the hospital, he barely took the time to kick the kickstand down before he darted inside.

Savoring the sudden rush of relief upon spotting Melissa, he ran up to her and said, "Mom, what's going on?"

Melissa turned to her son, her eyes watered and her cheeks tear stained. She offered him a sympathetic smile as she placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him to a chair, "Sit down, sweetie."

Scott felt his relief turn into stomach-twisting dread, "Mom, seriously. What's wrong with Stiles?"

Melissa took a seat next to him and watched him for a few moments. He looked on as he saw the internal struggle play out on her face. She drew in a shaky breath and shook her head. How could she say this to her son? 

She cleared her throat as she inhaled unevenly again and forced herself to look him in the eye and said, "Scott, honey...Stiles was in an accident. He's in a coma, sweetie. He d-died for a minute, but he may--may not come out of it."

Scott shook his head, "Mom, don't worry, alright? Me and the pack--we'll figure this out."

Melissa grimaced, "Scott? There's nothing to figure out; either he'll wake up or he won't."

"Scott?" Derek asked as he approached the two.

"Sweetie?" Melissa asked with a gentle shake to his arm.

Their voices slowly faded into the background, along with the rest of the room until he was surrounded by darkness and couldn't even see himself. He furrowed his brow as his arms started to glow, until the light spread out around him and he craned his neck to watch the light reveal he was sitting in a hospital room.

"...the hell?" He muttered as he looked around the room until his eyes fell on his best friend lying in the hospital bed.

Stiles offered a sheepish smile as he waved, "Hey...Scott."

Scott arched a brow, "Stiles? What the hell is going on?"

Stiles reached up to scratch the back of his neck before he replied, "Well, uh, right now I'd say you're in the reception area downstairs, appear to be catatonic, and I tapped into that to link our minds so I can talk to you."

Scott's jaw dropped slightly, "How?"

Stiles shrugged, "Magic. Look, that's not really important right now. I know you're pissed about the memory spell, and you should be, but we have a bigger problem."

"Yeah," he replied shortly, "you're almost dead."

Stiles waved his hand dismissively, "I can work on that later. Listen, if my momentarily dying reversed the spell on you, then that means it also reversed the memory spell on the phoenix. You've gotta get to her ashes and mix them with mountain ash before she realizes what's going on and comes to."

Scott shook his head, "If she does, then you can just wipe her memory again. Stiles, we have to save you."

"Damn it, Scott!" Stiles shouted as he threw his hands in the air, "I'm the only one who can save myself. I have to find a way to pull myself out of this, and I'm trying, but I need you to be on the offensive about her in the meantime. Please."

Scott nodded, "Alright, but I need to ask you one question first. You at least owe me that right now." When Stiles nodded he continued, "Why did you erase my memory in the first place?"

Stiles huffed as he looked down at the blanket that was covering him. It was strange that he could touch the fabric, but he didn't feel it, "I panicked. The thought if losing you... I don't think I'd be able to handle this town without you. I just wanted you to trust me, and I screwed it up by doing the exact thing you were afraid of."

Scott looked at him for a moment before he nodded, "Okay. You work on waking up, I'll check on our little 'friend' and when it's over..." he let out a sigh, "we'll put it behind us; start fresh."

Stiles shook his head, "I don't want to start fresh."

"I should have trusted you in the first place, Stiles. So, the deal is we start fresh, put this behind us, but if you do something like it again you'll have to make a choice."

"And what's the choice?"

"Me or the power."

"You," Stiles replied without a moment's hesitation, "no amount of power is worth tossing my brother away." 

After he watched Scott fade away from his 'room', Stiles threw his head back into the pillow with a sigh. He closed his eyes and started repeating softly, "I am not done; I've only just begun."

"I'm not done; I've only just begun."

"I'm not done; I've only just begun."

He took a deep breath, twitching in shock as he felt actual air filling his lungs before he continued,

"I am not done..."

"...I've only just begun."


	4. Confrontation

Scott grunted as his back collided with a tree before he fell to the ground. Isaac and Kira took turns trying to attack her from both sides, but the phoenix fended them off just as easily. She hadn't resorted to using her fire power yet; she wanted her fun to last.

She chuckled cockily as she paced around, looking over the three of them as they fought through their pain while they tried to stand, "I'll admit I hesitated too long last time I tried to kill you. I mean, I basically blew a house up for nothing, but I won't make that mistake again." She arched a brow as she looked to Scott, "I think I'll get rid of the pack first; weaken the alpha a bit."

Scott winced as he finally stood, his left hand bracing his side as his rib continued to heal. He fixed her with a steely glare and said, "The only one who will be gotten rid of is you."

The phoenix scoffed, "That's not gonna happen, Lassie. See, you had a good thing going with that memory spell, but that's gone now. I've been given another chance...and I'm not going to waste it."

Isaac groaned as he rolled over. He grabbed Kira's arm as he stood to help her up, "We need Stiles."

Kira nodded, "He's not exactly able to at the moment, though."

Isaac shrugged, "Well, we've got to figure something out. We can't just keep fighting her like this; it's not doing anything but wearing us down."

Scott's yell of pain as he flew past them pulled them out of their conversation. Scott groaned as he lifted his head from the ground and eyed the phoenix, "Come on, Stiles."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Derek traced his thumb along the inside of Stiles' wrist as he held the younger male's hand in his own. His brows were furrowed as he trained his green eyes on him, waiting for another sign of waking up.

Three hours had passed since Scott suddenly ran out of the hospital, leaving Derek to stay with Stiles. The sheriff wanted to leave work immediately, but after Melissa assured him that he would be the first to know of any changes, and that it was just a waiting game so he may as well do some good with that time, he'd relented and stayed at work.

It was an hour and a half later when Stiles drew in a deep breath, but otherwise he hadn't moved. Derek had been spending the time talking to him, trying to coax him out, but he couldn't fight the feeling that maybe Stiles didn't want to come back.

It was no secret to Derek that Stiles had been struggling with his recent decisions. He could tell that Stiles was viewing the world as if it were crumbling around him, like everything he did to try to stabilize it only served to further the demolition. He was kicking himself now for not being more active in helping him. He should have been right by his side, and instead he abandoned him to navigate the entire problem alone

In the whole time he'd been sitting in the hospital room, watching Stiles with bated breath, he'd found himself questioning if he was really right for Stiles. He knew Stiles was happy, but that didn't mean that their relationship was healthy for him. Stiles deserved someone who would have his back without a moment's hesitation, and though he hated to admit it, he'd hesitated.

A soft knock pulled him from the deep recesses of his thoughts before he turned his head to see Deputy Parrish leaning against the door frame. The werewolf exhaled sharply before he jerked his head, gesturing for the young man to come in.

Jordan entered and took in Stiles' scraped up face as he approached the bed. He kept his eyes on him as he asked, "How is he?"

"The same as he was when he got here." Derek replied, "He took an irregularly deep breath a little bit ago, but otherwise...nothing."

As he watched how Jordan stared at Stiles with a mixture of concern and something he couldn't quite put his finger on. At first he figured the deputy was there for the sheriff's sake, but the look on his face just screamed there was something more. 

"Is he..." Jordan paused to clear his throat of the lump forming in it, "is he going to make it?"

Derek chewed on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated what to say. The jealous part of him wanted to tell him something in an indifferent tone, but the larger part of him, the part Stiles fell in love with, was telling him to handle this for Stiles, not Derek.

"I'm not going to lie; there's a chance he won't make it. But Stiles is pretty damn stubborn..." He paused to look at the unconscious male on the bed, "I don't think he'd let himself go out this way. He'd spend his entire afterlife bemoaning how lame his death was, considering he hung out with a pack of supernatural creatures."

Jordan lightly snickered, "You know, it's weird but...after working for the sheriff for a while, I couldn't help but look at him as a father figure. Next thing I knew, I wasn't a guy who was alone surrounded by a bunch of tight-knit people. I... I felt like I belonged here...and that's all because of the Stilinskis."

Derek grunted softly as he retrieves his hand from Stiles' and crossed his arms across his chest, "That's nice." Sorry, but his concern was Stiles, not Parrish's sob story.

Jordan scoffed softly as he turned to Derek, "I'm sorry; have I done something to offend you?"

Derek shook his head as he offered a noncommittal shrug, "Do you think you have?"

Jordan rolled his eyes before he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Look, if you're worried about--I'm not going to try to steal him from you, alright? I may not know what I am, but the one thing I'm one hundred percent positive I'm not is a thief."

Derek slowly shook his head, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Jordan smirked, "Do you think I didn't see you holding his hand, the looks you were giving him? It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out."

Derek scoffed as he muttered under his breath, "Clearly you haven't met Scott."

Jordan sighed, "He's like a brother to me. Him and the sheriff, they're like my family."

"He has enough family."

Jordan shook his head as a sad smile formed on his face, "You can never have enough family. Your family could be large enough to fill an entire city and you'd still have room for more. That's what family is." He looked back at Stiles, "It's not about whose blood you share or who you grew up with. It's about the people who embrace you--all of you-- and you embrace them in return. The people you meet who make you feel like you've been together in each other's lives all along, even if you've only just met them a moment ago."

When Derek didn't respond, Jordan spoke again, "Now isn't the time for fighting, Derek, and frankly, I'm not all that interested in fighting with you, anyway. We both know that there isn't anything Stiles wouldn't do for his friends; don't you think we owe him the same courtesy by just being here to lend him some support?"

"What he said," a soft voice weakly mumbled from the bed. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Isaac yelled as he dodged a stream of fire and rolled to the left. The phoenix had started to grow bored of drawing it out and now seemed hell bent on roasting them. Luckily, the three of them remained faster than her; but how much longer could they hold out?

The phoenix turned her attention from Isaac to Kira, a sadistic and predatory smile gracing her features. As she took a step closer to the kitsune, a fireball forming in her hand, she was taken to the ground by Scott tackling her.

The alpha rolled, his claws sinking into her arms as he roared. His red eyes glowed with an intense ferocity as he moved into a crouch and threw her as he stood, releasing another roar as she was hurled into a tree.

The phoenix grunted as she stood up and brushed her red hair from her face, "You want to play that way? Okay." She smirked as a bright mixture of red and orange swirled in her irises before a flame ignited from the ground in front of her. Her smirk grew into a smile as the flame expanded and circled around her until it formed a complete ring. 

She giggled as she dared Scott, "Well, you want it? Come and get it."

As Isaac started toward her, Scott held out his arm to hold him back with a shake of his head. Everything in him and about the phoenix was screaming, 'trap'. He fixed her with a glare, "You seem pretty determined to get your vengeance. Why don't you come get us?"

The phoenix chuckled, "What's the matter; afraid of a little fire?"

As she bit her bottom lip mischievously and eyed the circle of fire, realization flooded Scott's mind. He turned to Isaac and Kira and pointed up into a nearby tree. The other two nodded in understanding and the three of them took to climbing into a tree just as the circle of flames rapidly expanded with the force of an explosion.

As flames began engulfing the trees surrounding them, and the ones they'd started climbing onto, they dropped back to the ground. They held their arms in front of their faces in an attempt to block out as much smoke as possible.

Scott searched around for the phoenix but couldn't find a trace of her, except the raging fire around them, of course. He turned back to the two and shouted over the roaring flames, "We've gotta get back to the hospital! She's probably going after Stiles!"

 

\------------------------------------

Melissa was typing a report for another patient on her computer when the hairs on her neck stood up. She furrowed her brow as the faint scent of smoke filled her nostrils while she looked around for any signs of a fire. When she turned back to face her computer, where the scent was the strongest, she noticed a redheaded woman standing in front of the counter.

The stranger offered her a polite smile as she rested her right arm on the countertop, lightly tapping her fingers rhythmically as she tilted her head slightly, "Could you tell me the room Stiles is in?"

Melissa sat up straighter, "Um, I'm sorry. Are you a friend of his?"

The woman's eyes twinkled, "More like an old acquaintance."

Melissa cleared her throat, "I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over for the night."

The woman nodded with a soft 'hm' before she leaned in a little closer, "Why are you lying to me?"

Melissa fixed her with a stern look, "Because I know you're not human, and I won't let you near that boy."

The redhead chuckled as her eyes flashed red/orange, "And I happen to know you're the alpha's mother; I can smell it on you. Look, sweetie, I have no interest in killing anyone that I don't have to."

"Go with that."

She let out a sharp laugh, "Just because I have no interest in it doesn't mean I'm not above it." The smile fell from her face as she leaned in closer and whispered, "Either you give me his room number, or I'll start barbecuing every last soul in this damn place until I find him."   
Her smile returned as Melissa's expression turned to one of repulsion, "No? Hm," She stood up straight and pursed her lips, "Well, I hope you like your doctors well done, cuz that's this girl's only setting."

 

\------------------------------------

 

Derek's brow furrowed as he turned his head toward the door, "Does anyone else smell that?"

Stiles groaned as the smell flooded his senses, "Smoke. The phoenix must have gotten past Scott."

Jordan looked at the two of them before he extracted his gun and started for the door, stopping when it closed on its own.

"If two werewolves and a kitsune can't stop her, a Glock definitely won't. You'd have better luck fighting her with a pine cone."

Jordan exhaled sharply, "I can't just stand here." He turned back toward the door when he heard someone scream, "I definitely won't just stand here."

"And what're you going to do, then?" Derek questioned.

Jordan shrugged, "Well, we know I can survive being set on fire, so I'd say I've got a good advantage going for me."

Derek scoffed as he turned to Stiles, "We've got to get you out of here."

Stiles shook his head, "No, you don't. The whole time I was out, I was thinking up a plan." He let out a sigh as he noticed Derek's eyes start to glow. "Showtime. Jordan, get behind the door."

The door suddenly burst open before the phoenix walked in, a victorious smile plastered on her face as she noticed she and the annoying magic boy were alone. Her smile grew when she took in the fact that he was still unconscious. She shook her head as she formed a fireball in her hand, "Oh, too easy."

She took a step forward before she was suddenly thrown back by an invisible force and collided with the shut door, which she was fairly certain hadn't shut behind her when she'd entered. As she stood, confusion taking over her features, she found herself trapped in a hold, her arms locked behind her.

Jordan kept his grip on her firm as he grunted out, "Don't bother, Red; I'm fireproof--literally."

"What the hell!" The phoenix shouted, "What, so there's two witches now?"

Stiles then opened his eyes and sat up in the bed. He glared at her, "Nope, still just me. And I'm not a witch, bitch. Heh," he smiled at Jordan, "see what I did there?"

As the phoenix continued to struggle in Parrish's hold, Stiles spoke again, "Evil lurks to make her whole; I ask a chance to save her soul. Put out the flames she starts alone, and seal her fate I've set in stone."

The phoenix let out a scream as she froze, unable to move her muscles. Jordan slowly backed away as they watched her skin, her hair, her entire body, turn into stone. The deputy eyed the statue up and down before he gave Stiles an approving smirk, "Nicely done."

Stiles smiled proudly, "Thank you." He took in Derek's grimace as he walked out from the bathroom, "What's wrong with you, Sourwolf?"

"Just don't like sitting on the sidelines," the werewolf grumbled.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Well, then you should have tried harder when your mom taught you how to be fireproof. Oh, wait; werewolves can't do that, can they?"

Derek glared, "Shut up."

Stiles crossed his arms as he turned his head away from Derek, "Hmph, see if you get any kisses." He looked at Jordan, "Say, Parrish, would you say you're more heterosexual or hetero-flexible?" 

Derek let out an irritated growl, which only fueled Stiles' teasing further, "Oh-ho-ho, struck a nerve, have I?" He looked at Jordan again and shrugged, "I can see it. You gotta admit, we would be really hot in the bed."

Jordan took a step to the side as Derek stormed past him out of the room. He gave Stiles a look of concern, "Was that really necessary?"

Stiles waved his hand dismissively, "Ah, he'll get over it."

Jordan crossed his arms, "And if he doesn't? I'm not sure I'll enjoy an angry werewolf wanting to rip me to shreds everytime you and I are in the same room together."

Stiles shrugged, "The way I see it, if he thinks I'm really going to do something like that, then he doesn't know me as well as he should. Yes, I probably shouldn't have taken that as far as I did, but still. I mean, I understand with his track record, but... Look, I just came out of a coma, turned a phoenix into a statue... I just want to be happy Stiles, k?"

Jordan smiled, "I think I can manage that. Jell-O binge?"

Stiles nodded, "Jell-O binge," he confirmed. A few short minutes later, the two friends were curled up on the hospital bed surrounded by various colors of Jell-O as Stiles channel-surfed the television


	5. The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth

A week had passed since the accident and everything had returned to normal. Well, almost everything. Scott had kept to his word and things seemed to have gotten better between him and Stiles, but the latter could tell there was something going on in the alpha's mind.

Derek hadn't been any better. Everytime Stiles tried to talk to him, or just see him, the werewolf found some reason to run off before a 'hello' could even be brought up in one of their thoughts. So, needless to say, Stiles' first week out of the hospital had left him feeling lonely.

And that's the exact reason he found himself lounging in a chair at the station with his feet propped up on Jordan's desk as he munched on a bag of curly fries. Yes, he actually paid the people to fill a bag with curly fries and he was absolutely not ashamed; especially when he knew he could have just used magic to make them think he'd already paid.

As he continued to munch on the curly fries, Jordan sifted through some more of his paperwork. Stiles watched the man as he worked, secretly enjoying the little faces he'd make whenever he came across something that confused him or just pretty much didn't make sense. 

"Stiles?" Jordan said without looking up from the papers.

"Yep?"

"You're staring."

Stiles smirked as he playfully tossed a curly fry at Jordan's arm, "Not my fault you're Deputy McStudly."

Jordan snickered as he looked up from the paper at Stiles, "McStudly, huh?"

Stiles nodded as he ate another curly fry, "Mmhmm. You are, by far, the prettiest man in the city."

Jordan raised a skeptical brow, "In the city?"

"In all the land," Stiles corrected himself.

Jordan chuckled while he shook his head before he returned his attention to the papers, "You've gotta be bored by now, Stiles."

"Oh, I am." Stiles replied before he crumbled up the now-empty bag and tossed it into the small trash can beside the desk, "But a few hours of boredom with my favorite deputy sure as hell beats another day of sitting around alone or, you know, chasing down evasive boyfriends."

Jordan sighed softly, "He still isn't talking to you?"

"Big ol' negative there, Jordy."

"Can you blame him?"

"Yes, I can, actually." Stiles said softly as he tapped his fingers on his knee. He huffed out a sigh as he threw his head back, "I know I keep mucking things up, but I just... I don't know."

Jordan looked at Stiles, watching him struggle with some internal dialogue. After a beat, he set his pen down and stood up from his chair before he walked around the desk and held out a hand to Stiles, "Come on."

Stiles raised an eyebrow as he eyed the outstretched hand in front of him, "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere you can let everything out without losing any of your dignity."

Stiles scoffed, "If you mean the Preserve, thanks to the Phoenix all that's left there is the damn Nemeton."

"We're not going to the Preserve," Jordan said with a shake of his head, "but I'm not going to have this conversation with you at your dad's work, either."

Stiles eyed the deputy's hand again before he finally relented and took it as he stood up and followed him out to his car.

 

\------------------------------------

Stiles released a groan as he shut the car door and leaned against it. He crossed his arms over his head and stretched as he said, "That was an unnecessarily long car ride just to get to the high school."

Jordan smirked as he got out of the car and started walking towards the lacrosse field. He strolled casually, not bothering to check if Stiles was following behind him.

"So...why are we here, exactly?" Stiles asked uncertainly after he approached the bleachers where Parrish was standing.

Jordan offered him a smile as he nodded toward the field, "I remember when I played baseball in high school; the field seemed to be the only place I could find clarity to think. I assumed it would be the same for you."

Stiles scratched the back of his head as he winced in minor embarrassment, "Yeah, well I don't think I would exactly classify myself as an athlete, considering I've only played, like, one game."

Jordan shook his head with a chuckle, "It doesn't matter how often you play, Stiles. You're on the team because the coach sees something in you."

"What would that be; my sparkling personality and quick wit?"

"Loyalty," Jordan corrected as he turned to give him a fond smile, "dedication, resourcefulness--only a few of the same things everyone else sees when they look at you. You're a great guy with an even bigger heart--don't shake your head like you can deny it, just listen for a minute. You've been through a lot, Stiles, a hell of a lot more than most people my age can claim, but you still haven't lost your sense of self."

Stiles scoffed before he took a seat and rested his elbows on his thighs. He stared out at the field in silence, even though every fiber in his being was screaming at him to let it all out. After a while, he begrudgingly succumbed to his psyche's desire, "I was possessed by a...something a while back, and because of it I have powers. It's hard to explain the 'how', but then again that part isn't really important here. Scott didn't think I should keep them, and I argued against it, but eventually I ended up abusing it and erased one of his memories in a panic. It's back now, but only because I died momentarily."

Jordan nodded in understanding as he took a seat next to Stiles, "The other day when you came to visit me at work, that was the situation you needed advice about?"

Stiles nodded, "Yeah. Everything's just...it feels like my life has just completely spun out of control. Scott says he's moved past it, but I can tell that something's changed. Derek won't even stay in the same room as me long enough to say 'screw you', let alone to actually discuss crap. It's like I've screwed everything up and there's no way for me to fix it."

Jordan shrugged, "Have you ever considered that maybe, for now, you can't? Look, Scott and Derek know the real Stiles, so deep down they'll understand the motives behind whatever you've done, which means eventually they'll come around."

"And what if they don't?"

Jordan inhaled deeply, "Then, for the time being, they're not meant to be in your life. You told me once that Scott had kind of changed after he was bitten, right? Well, maybe your magical actions in a state of panic is your version of that. You've got to learn to control it and judge the need for it in each situation."

Stiles felt an arm wrap around his shoulders before he was gently pulled into Jordan's side. The deputy tilted his head and said to him, "You're not a bad person, Stiles. You're not evil, never could be, and anyone would be a fool not to trust you."

Stiles didn't mean to do it; honestly he didn't. Before he could stop himself, he started crying in Jordan's embrace, "I don't want to lose him."

Parrish gently rubbed circles into Stiles' back as he let him release all of his pent up pain, "You won't. I promise."

Stiles continued to cry until his phone alerted him to a text. As he slowly pulled away from Jordan, he pulled the phone from his pocket and felt a new wave of pain wash through his body as he read the text from Scott,

'Derek's gone. Along with his things.'

Stiles drew in a shaky breath as he threw his phone across the field before he slumped, losing his momentary flash of strength, "Derek's gone," he said in a whisper.

Jordan gripped his shoulder supportively, "Will he be back?"

Stiles shook his head as he fought back the choking feeling in his throat, "Knowing him, not anytime soon." He breathed out a sigh as he put his head in his hands, "I told you I screwed everything up."

"Yeah, well you put the ball in his court and he chose to run away with it, Stiles. Let him figure himself out."

Stiles shook his head with a sob, "Dammit, screw all of this!" He stood up from the stands and waved his arm, sending one of the goals flying into the other one on the other side of the field.

"Wow, and coach won't let you play?" He asked lightheartedly, his smirk quickly fading as Stiles shot him a glare, "Sorry, too soon."

Stiles looked away, shaking his head dismissively as he glared out at the field. He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and use every ounce of his power to totally decimate the stupid town with the stupid apt for drawing in stupid supernatural things. He just wanted everything to be normal again.

But he wanted Derek back more. As he looked down at his feet, he crouched down and picked up his phone. He opened up his texts and sent one to Derek,

'I'm getting rid of my powers. I don't know how, but I'll find a way and I'll do it.'

He and Jordan remained where they were for half an hour, after which it became apparent that Derek wasn't going to be texting him back. With a reluctant, defeated sigh, Stiles sank to his knees and released a scream that could almost rival Lydia's, which Jordan deduced could have been some weird magic-related thing.

As Stiles' magically amplified scream faded to a quiet, scratchy exhale, Jordan watched on, feeling sympathy for the amount of pain he could hear in Stiles. He couldn't even begin to fathom what he was going through, but he understood feeling like his life was spiraling into chaos uncontrollably.

"I can't," Stiles whispered. His bottom lip quivered as his entire body gently shook. He drew in a wet, halted breath, coughed, and whispered again, "I can't solve my problems with magic, but how do I get rid of my magic non-magically?"

He let out an ironic laugh as he shook his head, "To hell with it. What's one more spell, right? Okay, Stiles..." He bit his bottom lip in thought then rolled his eyes, "Return the powers to the dark; change the light back to a Spark?"

"Stiles," Jordan started as he crouched next to him.

"I can't even--" Stiles softly chuckled, "I can't even get rid of them! Of course it's not that easy. It never is that easy; if it were that easy, then there wouldn't be any Nemeton, or werewolves, or kistunes, nogitsunes, kanimas, were-coyotes, Berserkers, werewolf hunters, sirens, phoenixes, Oni, Darachs," he turned toward him, "whatever the hell you are. I mean, seriously it's a miracle that none of us have gone insane before now!"

"You're not going insane, Stiles." Jordan said sternly before he said through a chuckle, "You don't have a long enough attention span for that."

Stiles reluctantly chuckled with him before he finally cracked and flashed him a smile, "Good, cuz that means I won't be hurting for too much longer. Statistically speaking, of course."

Jordan offered a sympathetic smile, "Just because you're not thinking of it, doesn't mean you don't feel it."

Stiles grimaced before he nodded in acceptance. Seeing Scott's name flash across his phone screen as it began to ring, he swiped his finger and slightly turned away from Jordan to talk, "Hey,"

"Where are you?" Scott immediately asked.

"Uh, at the school with Jordan. We were," he looked over at Parrish briefly before he continued, "trying to figure out the extent if his abilities."

"Oh," Scott paused, "and how's that turning out?"

Stiles chuckled dryly as he scratched the back of his neck, "Not as successful as we'd hoped."

"So, you're okay? I can be there in, like, ten minutes if you want."

Stiles smiled inwardly as he nodded his head, "Yeah, that's be great, actually. There's something we need to talk about."

"Alright," Scott replied, "see you soon."

"Looking forward to it," Stiles replied with a soft chuckle before he hung up. He bit his bottom lip before turning back to Jordan, "You don't have to stay; I mean, if you don't want to."

Jordan narrowed his eyes inquisitively, "What do you prefer?"

Stiles shrugged, "Doesn't bother me either way, but I'd appreciate your input."

"Stiles!" Scott called out as he jogged over to them, "Hey, so what's going on?"

Stiles looked up at Scott and smirked, "Wanna help me tap into the Nemeton's power and put up a magical barrier around Beacon Hills, keeping out any supernatural creepy with ill intent?"

Scott's eyes widened as he smirked incredulously, "You can do that?"

"There's only one way to find out."

"And it could possibly backfire and kill us all," Jordan countered.

"And never-ending fun to boot," Stiles added in mock fondness.

Scott chuckled as he weighed his options. If it meant Stiles wasn't thinking about Derek and it would help prevent anymore nasties from coming to town, "I'm in."

Stiles grinned as he stood up and said, "Let's go do some research. To the Bat Cave!"

"You mean, your room?" Scott chuckled.

Stiles quipped, "The weather forecast didn't call for any rain on my parade, Scotty."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"Lydia," a disembodied voice softly called to the strawberry blonde as she was trying on a new dress at the mall. 

She cocked her head to the side, her brows furrowed as she concentrated on the music playing over the speakers in the store. A rush of voices softly echoed before the same voice from before spoke again, "If they succeed, you all will die."

Lydia drew in a shaky breath, her bottom lip trembling as she fell back against the dressing room wall and slid down until she was sitting on the ground. She then closed her eyes and screamed. She screamed for all of the deaths that were to come if they didn't stop whatever was coming next.

She screamed for Beacon Hills.


	6. The Price

"It's not possible," Deaton immediately said when Stiles was finished discussing his idea with the vet. He sighed, "Well, it's plausible, but extraordinarily dangerous. Tapping into a Nemeton's power is, well the word 'suicidal' comes to mind."

Stiles rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "When isn't anything to do with Beacon Hills borderline suicidal?" He shook his head before looking back at Deaton, "What's the worst case scenario? Does it just kill me or are we looking at a more larger scale?"

"The entire town, possibly a few neighboring districts." Deaton said with a grimace, "Plus, there are many ways to manipulate something, even a magical barrier. Your power is linked to the Nemeton, Stiles; that's what is fueling your Spark. You, of all people, should understand the magnitude of the Nemeton's pull."

Scott cocked his eyebrow, "So, by blocking them off from the town, we could send whatever supernatural thing outside into a mad frenzy?"

"Exactly," Deaton replied before looking back to Stiles, "Imagine seeing someone you care about standing across from you, then suddenly the only thing between the two of you is a wall. How far would you go to get to the other side?"

"Great. This plan just keeps sounding better and better," Jordan said off-handedly under a sigh. 

Stiles ignored the Deputy's comment and crossed his arms, "Well, we have to do something, Dr. D. I mean, look at us; the town's only chance for survival rests on the shoulders of a pack of teenagers."

"Teenage supernatural creatures," Jordan added.

"Teenage supernatural creatures who are still teenagers," Stiles countered in a stern tone as he shot Jordan a look. He then looked back to Deaton, "Say we do find a way to put up a barrier--what are the chances we decimate the town?"

"Fifty-fifty."

"How did I know you were going to say that?" Stiles asked rhetorically. He carded a hand through his hair with a sigh as he sank into a seat.

Jordan exchanged a look with Scott before he rested a hand on Stiles' shoulder, "Maybe the town just wasn't meant to be blocked off."

Stiles shook his head defiantly, "I'll find a way."

Scott scratched behind his earlobe as he looked to Deaton, "Is there a chance, any at all, that the supernatural traffic could slow down over the years? Wait, that's it." He turned his head toward Stiles, "What about a spell to change the Nemeton's pull? You know, make them stay away instead of coming closer?"

Deaton straightened his posture, giving the three a look of grave apprehension, "Scott, Stiles...it's not what you set out to do with the Nemeton's power that is so dangerous; it's trying to manipulate it."

Stiles threw his head back as he growled irritably. This was just starting to get pointless, "It's easier to sneak onto the damn Death Star than it is to deal with our little magic tree stump."

"What's the Death Star?" Scott inquired with a confused look.

Stiles glared at him incredulously, "Scotty, seriously, you've got to make time for Star Wars, dude. This is just--it's sad, man. I am literally about to shed tears for you."

"Moving on," Jordan says through a humored sigh, "I think our best bet is to just let things lie. If messing with the Nemeton in any way risks the lives of hundreds of people, then I say it isn't worth it."

Stiles dipped his head in concession before he stood up and nodded to Deaton, "If you can think of anything we could do, call me."

After the veterinarian agreed to his request, the other three walked out as Stiles began lecturing Scott about the benefits of watching Star Wars.

"And the Ewoks, man! The Ewoks are freaking adorable. And you can't have a better life mentor than Yoda."

"Let it go, Stiles," Jordan admonished as he clapped a hand on his back.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"They will kill you all..."

"Lydia..."

"All will die..."

"Stop them..."

"Lydia..."

Lydia released a frustrated cry as she shut off her car radio, then leaned her head against the door. The voices had continued to warn her about stopping 'them' before 'they' killed everybody, which was great and all, except for the fact that they refused to tell her who it was or what they were going to do.

Yes, she'd actually asked and the damn voices in her head refused to answer.

Stupid voices.

She rolled her eyes, an incredulous scoff breathing out of her as she reexamined her life up to this point. She used to be the popular girl with a high IQ dating the captain of the lacrosse team, until he became a co-captain, turned into a homicidal lizard, then a werewolf, and she found out she was a banshee. She hadn't stopped screaming ever since.

"Come on, Lydia," she reprimanded herself before starting her car and driving away.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

Stiles was lounging on the couch in his living room, his legs draped over Jordan's lap, as he stared at his phone screen. Isaac was leaning against the wall, Lydia and Kira shared the love seat, and Scott was perched on the armrest of the couch behind Stiles.

Lydia had revealed to everyone what she'd been hearing, which really only reignited Stiles' desire to do something to repel evil things from picking Beacon Hills as their number one vacation spot. The others had stopped discussing plans a while ago, all deciding to think of solutions to themselves.

Taking note that he hadn't removed his gaze from his phone for the last thirty minutes, Scott leaned forward to whisper in Stiles' ear so the others couldn't hear him, "Still nothing from him?" After Stiles shook his head, Scott asked, "Want to go talk somewhere private?"

Stiles nodded and the two left the living room to go onto the porch. He exhaled in relief, not having realized he'd been holding it in for so long. He took a seat on one of the steps, resting his elbows on his knees, "Do you know why he left?"

Scott shook his head solemnly as he stood next to Stiles and leaned forward to rest his forearms on the railing. He kept his brown eyes trained on the grass in the front yard, "No. I figured if any of us would know that, it'd be you."

Stiles chuckled humorlessly as he shook his head as well, "Nope, but then again when has Derek Hale ever been known for his communication skills? He's always been a man of action and they speak loud and clear."

Scott picked at his fingers before he finally decided to just jump to it, "He cares about you, Stiles."

Stiles sighed as he hung his head, "I didn't mean to keep it from you. I mean, I did, but only until we'd figured everything out, which I guess we have now."

"Do you really believe that?" Scott asked.

"I don't much of a choice here, do I?" he replied with a shrug.

"You have every choice." Scott said before he cleared his throat, "Are you forgetting that you teleported me, Kira and Isaac once? If he's going to run, then you can either follow or stay put. If you follow, then you'll be chasing him down until you either get him to talk or you give up on him."

"And if I stay?"

"If you stay," Scott sighed, "then you choose to let Derek bear all the weight of you guys' situation while you move on in the meantime. Either decision is right, Stiles; all that matters is that you see it through. I just want to see you happy."

Stiles offered a smile as he nodded, "If it were Allison, you'd go after her, right?"

"It doesn't matter; this isn't me and Allison. This is Stiles and Derek." Scott crooked his head to look through the window into the living room before he turned back to Stiles, "Besides, you and Parrish looked pretty cozy in there."

Stiles shrugged, "He's just being a good friend." He looked up at Scott and playfully bumped his leg with a fist, "Just like you're being a best friend."

"Brother," Scott corrected, "so nothing's going on between you?"

Stiles shook his head, "If there is, color me surprised. How about you and Kira?"

Scott chuckled through a sigh as he scratched the top of his head, "We're okay. Eventually we're hoping to have time for an actual date, but we're okay."

"Good," Stiles replied with a smile, "I like her."

Scott smirked, "I'm glad she's Stiles approved." He spared another glance through the window before he added, "By the way, your deputy would definitely be Scott approved. Maybe even Dad approved."

Stiles chuckled, "I may be close to eighteen, but my dad would never allow me to date one of his deputies, high sense of morality aside."

Scott crouched down next to Stiles and enveloped him in a hug, "Just promise me you'll ask for help if you need it, no matter what."

Stiles returned the hug then piled away, "I promise." He remained silent for a moment before he shivered and stood up, "Well, as touching as this Lifetime moment is, I think we should probably head back inside."

Scott grunted in agreement, then stood up and wrapped his arm around Stiles' shoulders, "Seriously, though, give him a chance."

Stiles groaned, "He's just a friend, Scott. He sees me like a little brother; he told me so himself."

Scott shrugged with a mischievous smirk, "And who hasn't hidden behind that line before?"

Stiles paused at the door to shoot Scott a mock look of inquiry, "Are you speaking from experience, Scotty?" As Scott shook his head and walked past him into the house, he added, "I'm flattered, Scott; really, I am."

As the two entered the living room, the smiles on their faces dropped at the sight of their friends' solemn and hesitant expressions. Scott traded a look with Stiles before he turned to Kira and Lydia, who had one of Deaton's old books with them, "What's up?"

"We think we found the ritual Stiles was talking about," Lydia said softly as she anxiously twirled a lock of her hair around her finger.

"What?" asked a surprised Stiles. The smile returned to his face and he said with a chuckle, "That's great!"

"Yeah, it is," Kira replied before she looked back down at the book and held it out to Stiles, "There's a few catches, though."

"Like what?" Scott asked.

"Well," Lydia said, "there's the whole 'blow everybody up' thing, then there's the 'it could just totally kill the crap out of Stiles' thing, or..."

Scott raised an eyebrow, "Or? Or what?"

Stiles sighed heavily as he handed the book back to Kira, "Or it could work, not kill anybody, and every supernatural thing in town will turn human-- or powerless, in my case."

Scott's eyes widened, "Whoa, are you serious?" He looked back at Lydia and Kira before returning his look to Stiles, "I thought Derek said there wasn't a cure for the bite?"

"And he was right," Stiles said as he took a seat next to Jordan, "The ritual turning everyone human won't cure your lycanthropy or Lydia's bansheeism; it'll just suppress it until the barrier's broken."

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, "Okay...alright. So, is everyone willing to take that risk?"

"Well, it would be nice to have a sense of normality again," Isaac said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Unless, of course, the ritual kills everybody," Jordan interjected.

"Which would be a very bad, very un-normal thing," Stiles added, "What about turning the Nemeton into a supernatural repellent? Did you guys have any luck with that?"

Kira shook her head, "Not yet, but we haven't been through the whole book yet. But if we do find it, how do we know it won't repel us, too?"

Stiles groaned as he scratched his temple with the tip of his index finger, "We can always cross that bridge when we get to it."

Jordan watched Stiles with concern as he furrowed his brow, "Why even mess with the Nemeton at all? Deaton said it was incredibly dangerous and I'm sorry, but it's not worth risking your life or anyone else's."

Stiles patted his knee comfortingly, "I just want to use this power to keep my friends safe."

Jordan nodded, "I get that, but this is all too risky. I mean, would you really risk doing this ritual to protect everyone just to end up killing them in the process? It doesn't sound very promising, Stiles." 

"He's right," Scott agreed before he took a seat. "This is a pretty big gamble, Stiles...and I'm not so sure that luck is on our side."

Stiles opened his mouth to respond when his phone interrupted him. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the text before he typed out a quick reply and put it away again. He stood up and nodded to the room, "Sorry to cut this short, but I've gotta go meet somebody. It's...really important."

"What?" Jordan scoffed incredulously, "And this isn't?"

"No, it's fine, Jordan." Scott said as he ran a hand through his hair, "I think we've given ourselves a lot to think about for now."

"Thanks," Stiles said softly before he grabbed his keys and left the house. As soon as he'd cleared the doorway, his body started to tremble from the nerve-racking thoughts that swirled around in his mind like a mental cyclone. He clenched his steering wheel tightly until his knuckles were white and then finally drove off.

When he finally made it to the Preserve, or what was left of it, he released a sigh and fell back against his seat. This was it; the moment of truth. 

"Come on, Stiles," he said to himself, "You can do this. You have to do this." After another minute of hesitation, he finally opened his door as he said, "I'm gonna do this."

He walked for what felt like hours, but was really only about twenty minutes, before he came across the Nemeton. Seeing that he was alone, he sat down atop the large stump and started tapping the pads of his fingertips together. He stayed that way for another ten minutes, his brown eyes focused on his fingers as he nervously bounces his legs.

"Hey," a familiar gruff voice said from his right side.

Stiles tilted his head up and smiled nervously up at the man, "Hey, Sourwolf."


	7. The Quiet Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry for the long delay (about a month! Yikes!). I was suffering a bit of writers block, but I'm back and I'm going to get this story finished! Finally, I know!

"Hey, Sourwolf."

Derek fought the urge to react to the nickname, keeping his stoic expression firmly in place. Why did he have to say it? He secretly loved it whenever Stiles called him that, and he hated it. 

He forced himself to smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. He had to do this. This was the only way; it was the only thing he could do. 

"Stiles," he said with sincere endearment, "I, uh...heh, you see." He took a deep breath and started over, "I shouldn't have left like I did..."

"You shouldn't have left at all..." Stiles uttered.

Derek's eyes slightly narrowed, "I know. Stiles, we can't...we can't keep doing this dance. This isn't about you running amok with your powers or--"

"Amok?" Stiles repeated incredulously, "Amok? You think I'm running amok with my powers, Der? Yeah? Well, you're one to talk, Mr. Runs-On-Four-Legs-Around-Town!"

"Stiles, calm dow--oof!" Derek felt the wind get knocked out of him as an invisible force slammed into his stomach and sent him back a couple feet.

"Don't tell me to keep calm, Derek Hale; I'm not the one who ran away for who knows what reason," Stiles said tersely as he stood up from the Nemeton. He glared into Derek's green eyes through his own watery ones and said, "Screw you, Hale."

Derek held his hands up defensively, "No offense, but I'm not the one going around casting spells on people."

"Oh, gee, Derek; could you grab a more recent article? Oh, wait; you'd already know if you hadn't disappeared."

"I'm done arguing over stupid crap, Stiles." Derek shook his head, "We've both screwed up. I don't... I don't think I'm what you need, Stiles." He paused as an interesting scent entered his nostrils. He furrowed his brow as he scented it out, his eyes falling on Stiles, "Is that...Jordan I smell on you? Huh...guess I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."

"No," Stiles said irritably, "this is definitely new." He inhaled sharply, "Okay, let 'er rip. Why are you not what I need? Better yet, how about telling me what I need?"

"I'm not exactly in a good place to--"

"Oh, come on, Derek!" Stiles groaned in disgust, "Don't try to feed me one of those 'it's not you, it's me' lines."

"Stiles, I had to kill my first love, my second girlfriend burned my house and killed most of my family, Jennifer was sacrificing people--"

"What, and I remind you of them? Is that it? Do you think I'm evil, going over to the dark side? Well, you know what; I do feel a bit peckish and I hear the dark side has cookies."

Derek closed his eyes then shouted, "I CAN'T TRUST YOU!"

Stiles stared at him slack jawed and in mild shock. Was it bad that his shouting kind of turned him on? Yeah, Stiles; bad time for that thought. He took a couple breaths and looked away, the corner of his mouth curving up into a half smirk. Could he really expect Derek to trust him after everything that'd happened? 

"I haven't exactly given you a reason to, as of late," Stiles said with a sigh before sitting back down on the Nemeton, "So, evidently I'm not going to change your mind anytime soon; so, where do we go?"

Derek cleared his throat, dug his heel into the ground, and said evenly, "We go our separate ways. I can leave town, though; if you'd like."

"You don't have to do that," Stiles said. "This town is big enough for the two of us." He scratched behind his neck, "But I think you're wrong. If you want to walk away...I'm not going to stop you."

Derek nodded, "Maybe I'm wrong, but I could still be right; and I'd rather apologize for trying to make sure you're happy in the end than for not stopping it in the beginning before you could lose it."

Stiles scoffed slightly, "I was happy before you left. I mean, yeah there was the whole memory spell crap, but at least I knew I had you in my corner."

"And you still do. I just think we need--"

"Need some time," Stiles finished with a nod, "I get it. It's freaking confusing and scary as hell, not to mention we've got all this craziness going on, too. Just...let's not be weird?"

Derek bit back a laugh, "I didn't plan to. So, what's been happening?"

"Well..." Stiles sighed, "I had an idea and the pack agreed to at least look into it. We're just going to tap into the Nemeton's power and use it to build a barrier around Beacon Hills to protect it from further supernatural nasties; nothing too bad." He paused to grimace, "Unless you consider the possibility of killing everybody in town in the process."

Derek choked on his breath, "Wait, what? Stiles, you can't risk the lives of the entire town!"

"The entire town and possibly two neighboring districts," Stiles added, "but, you know, who's counting?" He spared a glance at Derek, "I'm looking into a safer alternative."

"Leaving it alone sounds safer. The Nemeton was dormant before Jennifer started sacrificing to it, which means it has to run itself out. What if we need your power? "

Stiles let out a soft scoff, "We've handled worse before without my power."

"You don't know that," Derek replied, "How can you be sure? Just leave the Nemeton alone." He stared at Stiles for a few minutes before he sighed and stood up, "I have to go. I'll see you at the next Pack meeting."

As he started to walk away, Stiles cleared his throat and said, "I tried giving them up, you know; after you left."

Derek paused and turned his head, "Did you?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod, "it didn't work, obviously."

The two remained in uncomfortable silence for another minute before Derek finally walked away, leaving Stiles alone with the Nemeton. The teen turned around to study it for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration.

If he tried this, everyone could die and it would all be pointless. If he did it Derek's way, then countless people could die from whatever comes next. Both choices led to potential death; the real question was which one was the right one?

 

\-------------------------------------

 

A few days later, Scott and Isaac were sitting in the living room of the Stilinski house looking through home advertisements. When one would point something out that they liked about a house, the other would find something better in another house, like they were competing. 

Hearing a little banging upstairs, Isaac looked up from his ad and asked, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's just stressed." Scott gave him a reassuring smile, "He'll be fine, dude. Don't worry."

Isaac looked perplexed, "Why shouldn't I worry?"

"Because the only thing we can do now is be here for him. He's just got a lot on his plate right now."

"Is he gay?" Isaac asked bluntly, "I mean, he and Jordan seem pretty cozy together."

Scott chuckled, "He's Stiles; and I tried telling him the same thing about Jordan but he doesn't see it." He shook his head then tapped on the ad in front of Isaac, "I like that one."

"You're changing the subject."

"No, I'm not. I really like that house."

"Really like that house'? You didn't even look at it," Isaac gently chided.

"So?"

"So, how can you 'really like that house' if you didn't even look at it?" His eyes widened, "Wait...Stiles and Derek?!"

"Will you--!" Scott chastised as he gestured to Isaac to lower his voice, "What makes you think that?"

"I'm not dumb, Scott. Even I noticed he got depressed when Derek left; it's not that hard to connect the dots. So, what happened?" Isaac asked.

"Nothing; don't worry about it."

Arching a brow when they heard Stiles curse upstairs followed by a loud crash, Isaac smirked, "That doesn't sound like nothing."

Scott sighed, "Fine, it's something, but we can't do anything about it except be here when he wants to talk, so just let it be."

Following another loud crash, Isaac shook his head, "If he ends up blowing the house up then it's on you."

"He's not going to blow the house up," Scott said in an exasperated tone. He then uttered under his breath, "He can't do that."

Isaac scoffed, "Yet."

Scott sighed, "Okay, what do you propose we do then?"

"Distract him from whatever's eating at him," he paused when another crash sounded, prompting him to arch an eyebrow, "and preferably before he accidentally learns how to magically demolish his house." 

Scott opened his mouth to reply but remained silent when they heard Stiles' rapid footsteps descending the stairs. He turned his head to raise a questioning brow to Stiles as he paused in the entryway of the living room.

"I'm going to visit Jordan at work," Stiles said before he noticed the array of house advertisements arranged in front of the two, "Look for a house with a hot tub," he said as he turned away and headed for the door, "may as well go big or go home."

Isaac and Scott shared a look with each other before their lips curved into similar grins and they said simultaneously, "Hot tub!" Their motivation renewed, they returned to searching for a house, now with a hot tub added onto the list of criteria.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

"Stiles, not that I don't appreciate your company, but I have a lot of paperwork to go through," Jordan said shortly without looking up from the papers that covered his desk.

Stiles let out a sigh as he removed his feet from the edge of the desk and leaned forward in his seat. He'd noticed Jordan was a little grumpy when he came in a half hour ago, and he figured that he could just sit there quietly--apparently not the case.

"I mean it, Stiles," he said in a nastier tone as he looked up to glare at Stiles, his eyes glowing orange-red.

And apparently the young deputy was on his man period. That's always nice.

Stiles held up his hands defensively as he stood up from the chair, "I'll leave you to it, then. But you might want to do something about your grumpiness because your eyes are starting to glow."

Jordan's glare hardened as he slammed his hand down onto the desk, "Get out, Stiles!"

Stiles' eyes widened in surprise before he said calmly, "Chill out, Jordan; I'm leaving."

As Stiles turned to walk away, Jordan quickly stood up and flipped the desk into the air, sending it into the wall not even a foot away from Stiles. The teen paused in the doorway, then slowly turned to face a heavily breathing Jordan, whose hands were clenched tightly into fists, "Was that necessary?"

"Yes," Jordan replied angrily through his clenched teeth, "it was."

Stiles gave him a single nod as he glanced around the office nonchalantly, "Good; so is this." He flicked his hand and sent a surprised Jordan flying back into the wall behind him. He kept him pinned there as he slowly stepped closer, "I don't know what's going on, and frankly I can wait until you choose to talk to me to find out, but I'm not going to stand by idly while you throw furniture at me. Whatever's going on, figure it the hell out because the next time you choose to have a supernatural flip out on me? Well, let's just say this is me being nice about it."

He turned around and headed for the doorway, pausing at it again to add, "I'll erase the memory from anyone who noticed it, but you're going to do the clean up." Without sparing another glance at him, Stiles walked out.

Jordan fell forward as he felt the invisible force that held him to the wall dissipate. He rubbed his temple as he looked around at the paper littered floor and the desk that now lay sideways by the door. What the hell happened? He walked over to the desk and flipped it upright, his blood running cold when he noticed a mark on the desktop.

Right where he'd slammed his hand down when he was fuming at Stiles was a black handprint--his handprint--burned into the wood.

That was going to be fun explaining to the Sheriff.

'Oh, the handprint burned into my desk? That was just when I got pissed at your son for no reason before I threw it at him, Sir. Sorry about that.'

Yeah, that would go over really well--as long as the Sheriff miraculously forgot his gun and where all the other ones were stored.

As he moved the desk back into place and cleaned up his office, he found himself questioning what exactly happened and why. 

 

\--------------------------------------

 

"So, he threw a desk at you?" Lydia asked as she curled her hair at her vanity. She would spare glances at Stiles in the mirror occasionally throughout the conversation, "That doesn't make any sense."

"I know; it's so...un-Jordanlike." He reached up to search behind his ear, "So, any theories?"

Lydia smirked as she offered a shrug and moved on to the next tendril of strawberry blonde hair, "You're usually the first one with a theory. What have you come up with?"

Stiles sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, "Well, it could be that his powers are coming in more, kinda like when Scott first became a werewolf; but as far as we know he was born a...whatever he is. Then there's the Nemeton--it could be pulsing out more energy than normal. That could cause supernaturals to lose their cool... I think. Not that there's a precedent for that sort of thing."

"Hm," she said as she pursed her lips in concentration, "I would start with the Nemeton theory, personally. I mean, until we can find out what Parrish is, there's really no way to be sure if it's all him."

Stiles shrugged, "That makes sense. And if it's the Nemeton then what do we do? It's not like we can disempower it, considering it could kill everyone in the process."

Lydia nodded, "True, but what if there's a way to block its signal from manipulating everyone?"

Stiles cocked a brow, "Its signal? What, is it a cellphone tower or something?"

She rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean, Stilinski. Think of it like this: the Nemeton is a kind of stimulus and every supernatural creature is extremely sensitive to it, right? So, what's the best way to decrease extreme sensitivity to a stimulus?"

"Build up a tolerance?" When Lydia nodded he added, "Lyds, this is a freaking magic tree, not a beer keg. If it's the Nemeton then getting them closer could just make it worse."

She shrugged, "It's just a theory, Stiles. First things first-- you need to find out if the Nemeton is even the source of the problem."

"Great," he muttered under his breath, "who'd have thought growing up that our biggest problem would be a damn tree that sounds like it escaped from Hogwarts?"

Lydia picked up her cell as it chimed and read the text that appeared. She quickly turned in her seat and held the phone up for Stiles to read, "It's Isaac; he says Kira's going crazy and Scott's having a hard time controlling her because of her foxfire."

Stiles read the text and slumped his shoulders in exasperation, "Everyone should get a Nemeton; it's the fun that never ends." He sighed as he stood up and headed for the door, "Do me a favor and get Deaton over there for me? I'd rather go ahead and see if we can nip this in the bud before we have a true alpha with supernatural roid rage on our hands."

Lydia furrowed her brow, "But Kira and Jordan are the ones freaking out?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, "but I think it's starting to affect people who haven't been exposed to it for long--first Jordan, now Kira. If we don't do it now then pretty soon we'll have the whole pack suffering from magical werewolf rabies."


	8. Sacrifice

Scott flipped over the couch for cover, gasping heavily as he backed up to it. Kira had tapped into the electricity running through the house and started shooting lightning at he and Isaac. The two let out a sigh of relief when they heard Stiles run in.

"What the hell is going on?" He called out before he paused to look at Kira. The kitsune shot him a glare as she changed her positioning to fire at him. He chuckled and shook his head, "You don't want to do that."

Kira raised her hand and paused, her eyes narrowing as if she were perplexed by her actions. She stared him down for another minute before she lowered her hand and looked to the ground.

Stiles cocked a brow and let out a short chuckle. He really shouldn't be surprised about anything strange that happens in this town, but somehow he always was. He kept his eyes on Kira as he spoke to the others, "Guys, you can stop hiding behind the couch now."

Scott and Isaac's heads slowly popped out from behind the couch, their eyebrows raised in caution until they saw Kira's passive stance. The two let out a collective sigh of relief as they stood up and looked to a humored Stiles. Scott groaned, "What? She was shooting lightning at us!"

Stiles scoffed with a nod, "I know. It's just...well, Scotty, you have to admit it's a little comical: two werewolves hiding behind a couch from a tiny girl."

"A tiny girl that shoots lightning," Scott replied.

"And carries a katana," Isaac added.

Stiles shrugged before he walked over to a drawer and pulled out a small jar of mountain ash. He quickly sprinkled it on the floor around her in a circle and put the jar back. He started to walk away when he glanced over at her and sighed softly. He ran into the kitchen and came back with a chair, which he set down in the circle behind Kira.

 

"Alright, nobody goes near her until Deaton can explain what the hell's going on." Scott ordered as he walked around the couch. He turned his eyes to Stiles and asked, "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

Stiles tilted his head slightly, "Yeah, well, it could be the Nemeton manipulating and amplifying the rage inside of any supernatural creature in Beacon Hills."

Scott coughed, "Then how come me and Isaac are fine?"

"Because you've been exposed to the Nemeton's pull longer than our Kira," Deaton answered from the entryway into the living room. He exchanged glances with the three boys then settled his gaze on Kira. He studied her as he approached the circle of mountain ash, "Odd," he muttered.

"What's odd?" Scott asked.

"Her behavior," Deaton replied as he leaned in closer to her, "She's rather...complacent for someone whose been inflicted by the Nemeton..."

"Well, she wasn't as complacent until Stiles got here," Isaac offered.

Deaton turned to Stiles and asked, "Did you use your power to control her?" When Stiles shook his head he continued, "Then I'm afraid I was right before. Stiles, what did you do?"

"She looked like she was going to try and shock me, so I just told her she didn't want to do that."

Deaton nodded, "Your power is a direct connection to the Nemeton, Stiles. Because of that connection, your commands are a direct influence of its power."

Isaac cocked his brow, "Can you repeat that in English, please?"

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose, "It means I can use my link to the Nemeton to control anyone it influences." He looked up at Deaton as he sat down, "We need to find a way to fix it. I can't just go around controlling everybody."

Deaton grimaced, "Of course, but as we've discussed before, tampering with a Nemeton is pretty risky."

"Then what can we do? Is there, like, a desensitizing ritual or--or...something?" Stiles asked.

Deaton shook his head, "It's unprecedented...but it could be possible with a little ingenuity."

Scott looked over at Stiles, concern etched on his face. He remained silent with the rest of the group for a few minutes then finally said, "Why would the Nemeton be affecting us this way all of a sudden?"

Stiles sighed heavily, "Maybe it thought the Phoenix was a sacrifice?"

"But you turned her to stone; you didn't kill her." Deaton clarified. 

"That was the second time," Stiles corrected, "I stabbed her with a dagger the first time after I erased her memory."

Deaton's brow furrowed as he stood up, "Stiles, I've told you that your powers are tied to the Nemeton. Using them to take another life; an innocent life..."

Stiles cocked his brow, "Excuse me, innocent? Did you forget the part where she hurled fireballs at us and blew up Scott's house? And I didn't use my powers; I stabbed her."

"Without her memories she was innocent--innocent to her past transgressions. The Nemeton felt your use of power before that as an attack to weaken her."

"But we weren't near the Nemeton," Scott said.

"It doesn't matter," Deaton said with a shake of his head, "Wherever Stiles uses his powers to take a life, the Nemeton will see it as a sacrifice; he doesn't have to be near it." He took note of the guilty look on Stiles' face, "That sacrifice, tied with the sacrifice of your blood innocence, was like an injection of darkness of the highest potency into the Nemeton."

"Then how do we inject it with some highly potent light?" Isaac inquired.

"A selfless sacrifice; a sacrifice routed in love."

"But we did that when we sacrificed ourselves in our parents' place," Scott argued.

Stiles rubbed his arm, "I guess my 'sacrifices' were strong enough to negate it." He huffed out a sigh and turned to the door, "I'll go fetch Lydia and start researching."

Scott nodded appreciatively as Stiles walked out. He continued to stare in the direction he left as he crossed his arms, "He's up to something and it's something he knows I'm not going to like."

Isaac creased his brow, "How can you tell?"

Scott shrugged, "He wouldn't look me in the eyes."

 

\--------------------------------------

 

Stiles stood before the Nemeton with his arms crossed, his eyes trying to glare through the stupid magic tree. He looked up at the sound of a twig snapping and smirked, "You did that on purpose."

"Did not," Derek replied stoically as he approached him. "What's so important we had to meet out in the woods?"

Stiles jerked his head toward the Nemeton before he took a seat on top of it. He could feel its power slamming into him like a wave crashing on the shore, and he was fighting to hold it back. "Apparently when I killed the phoenix, the Nemeton saw it as a sacrifice. The...darkness of it, I guess, kind of sent it into a frenzy and it's starting to spread to everybody...making them act out in uncontrollable rage."

Derek frowned, "Any idea how to fix it?"

Stiles chuckled nervously, "Yeah...yeah, I do, actually. Deaton said to counteract those sacrifices and change its influence, it requires a selfless sacrifice." He drew in a shaky breath, "Can I trust you not to tell any of the others?"

"Depends," he replied, "is it stupid?"

Stiles nodded, "I have no doubt you'll think so." He picked at his fingertips to stall another moment, "I'm going to stage something; something to make Beacon Hills look completely unsafe for anyone to live in. I need you to make sure everyone gets away--far away; and I do mean everyone. Can you do that?"

Derek's eyes flashed blue for a moment, "What're you going to do, Stiles?"

Stiles looked up at Derek and said with absolute resolve, "I'm going to disempower the Nemeton."

 

\--------------------------------------

 

Scott's eyes started glowing red as he read the text message he'd just received. He growled softly before he put the phone back in his pocket and sat down on his bed. He was furious--beyond furious, but he couldn't let his anger, the betrayal, cloud his judgment. He fell back onto his bed with a sigh.

Isaac rapped gently on the door jam before he leaned against it, "Deaton's eased Kira down." He crossed his arms, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied solemnly without taking his eyes off the ceiling, "I just need some time to think right now."

Isaac slowly cocked his brow, "Alright, well yell if you need anything?"

Scott slowly lowered his eyes to look at Isaac before he smiled softly, "You'll be the first to know."

Isaac nodded and walked away. The smell of concern and sadness wafting off of Scott had him worried himself, but he had to trust his Alpha. He exhaled sharply as he reentered the living room and took a seat on the couch, "He's brooding. Something's bothering him, but he won't spill."

Deaton put a small container back into his bag before he turned to Isaac, "If it's something that affects the whole pack, he'll tell you in due time."

Kira shifted nervously in her chair, her eyes widened in slight panic, "It's probably because I tried to turn the house into a giant taser."

Isaac snickered, "Sorry, it wasn't really funny." His grin dropped at Kira's crestfallen expression, "Look," he said sympathetically, "if it was about you, he'd be down here talking to you right now. Besides, it's not like you're the first one of us to lose your cool."

Kira scoffed incredulously, "Then why do I get the feeling he's upset?"

"Because you're paranoid?" Isaac offered with a shrug. He winced as Kira stormed by and smacked him in the back of the head. He rubbed it as he glared at her retreating figure, "Ow?"

"You deserved it!" she called from the kitchen.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"You want to what?!" Derek shouted, "Stiles, that's the worst plan you've ever come up with! It's reckless, it's dangerous and I won't let you go on some suicide mission that may or may not work!"

"It's not up for discussion, Der." Stiles said stubbornly as he stood up, "If you get everyone out of here to safety then the only life at risk is my own."

"And what if it spans to neighboring counties? Didn't you say that was a possibility?"

"Well, then I'll force them all to evacuate, too."

Derek roared at Stiles' nonchalance, "You'd risk innocent lives just to scare them away?"

Stiles paused in his tracks and slowly nodded his head. He squared his shoulders as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "It's a necessary evil."

"The hell it is!" Derek argued, "You're not going to conjure up some...God knows what and terrorize the public just so you can kill yourself tampering with a magic tree stump!"

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Derek?!" He shouted, "Tell me what else I can do and I'll gladly choose it." He looked away as his eyes started to water. He spoke again in a quiet voice, "Do you really think I want to throw everything and everyone away? Do you think I wouldn't rather choose waking up to another day and making my dad a pot of coffee before he comes in from work on the weekends? Or that I wouldn't prefer having another day with Scott asking me the most ridiculous questions or--or joking Isaac for his ridiculous choice of neckwear in 60° weather?"

Derek found himself speechless, unprepared for this outburst. He pinched the bridge if his nose, "Stiles, I--"

"Shut up, Derek." Stiles said quietly, "Just shut up and for once trust me." He grunted irritably as he kicked a small branch that lay in front of him, "I don't want to die," he said in a watery voice, "but I'd rather be the only one to lose my life than all of the innocents you all could kill if we don't stop the Nemeton."

"Then I'll do it. I'll disempower it."

"You can't; at least, you can't start it."

"Then you start it and let me take over," Derek countered, "Either I take over so you can get out or I'll stand right beside you; either way, you're not doing this alone."

"Dammit, Derek," Stiles groaned, "How can you make sure everyone is out if you're standing here with me?"

Derek shrugged, "I guess Scott will have to do it then."

"No," Stiles answered immediately, "Scott can't know. If he did then he'd try to stop me."

"Exactly my point."

"Derek!" Stiles scolded, "I'm not above erasing your memory of this conversation if it means keeping my plan from Scott. So, are you going to help me or not?"

Derek searched his eyes for any sign of giving in before he accepted his own defeat. If he couldn't dissuade him now then he'd just have to figure something else out. He just knew he couldn't let Stiles go through with this; not alone, anyway. 

 

\--------------------------------------

 

The brunette anchorwoman's hands were clasped in front of her on top of the desk as she spoke into the camera. Anyone with supernatural hearing could easily hear the subtle cracks in her voice, giving away her own fear.

"In recent news, the major earthquake that decimated Japan yesterday is said to have been the strongest quake Japan has seen in over eighty years. Experts are warning the people of Hawaii and the southern portion of California to evacuate immediately, as this quake had what they call 'extreme potential to have created a tsunami.' They say that if its route ends up bypassing Hawaii, then it may hit California further north and there is a possibility it could hit Beacon Hills."

Lydia huffed in exasperation as she clicked the television off. She leaned back into her seat and rested her head against her right hand, "These people are nutjobs. Beacon Hills isn't even anywhere close to a beach!"

Stiles shrugged as he walked into the room, "I don't know, but wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?" He grabbed the remote from her as he passed by and flopped onto the couch. He started channel surfing and groaned when he kept finding channels with static, "Static...static...oh, look; static..."

Lydia rolled her eyes, "I think if there were any real cause for concern of our well being, I'd be the first to know..." Her voice trailed off as the white noise from the static channel started to sound like voices. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus in on what they were saying. 

"Lyds?" Stiles asked, "You okay over there?"

Lydia drew in a shaky gasp as tears started to roll down her face. She exchanged looks with Stiles before she turned her gaze back to the tv and stood up quickly "We need to go..."

"What; you're serious?" Isaac asked. "I thought we weren't close enough?"

"I-I was wrong," Lydia whispered through tears, "We can't--we can't stay here. We have to leave--now!"

Scott stood and raised his hands cautiously, "Alright, Lydia just...calm down, okay? What exactly did you hear?"

Lydia's eyes closed as she started to weep quietly, "One of us is going to die...but I couldn't hear who."

"Then let's not take any chances." Scott said as he turned to the rest of the pack, "We've got to get everybody else out first."

Stiles raised a finger, "I can work it out with my dad. He'll organize it and we can scout the town, make sure everybody's really out."

Scott nodded in agreement as Stiles got up to grab something from the dresser in the living room. He returned with a large paper which he spread out on the coffee table.

"Alright," Stiles said as he started tracing his fingers around the border of the town, "our best bet is to start from the edge of town and work our way in. We can meet up at the high school afterward."

 

\--------------------------------------

 

Most of the town had evacuated about thirty minutes ago and Stiles was growing more anxious by the minute. Of course there wasn't really a tsunami coming; that was just a really good job of tampering with his powers. As each minute passed he found he was hating himself more and more for what he was about to do to his friends.

Of course he had a choice; his friends or the greater good. He could leave town with his friends, but then all of this would have been a waste of time. He could tamper again and make the news anchors admit they were severely misinformed, but again -- total waste of time. No, this was the only way; he wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't.

He felt the lump in his throat grow as he pulled up to the high school and saw the pack gathered around Scott's motorcycle, Derek's Camaro, and Lydia's car. He put the Jeep in park and walked over to his friends. 

He paused next to Isaac and looked to everyone, "All zones clear?" When everyone nodded he gave a thumbs up, "Great. You all get moving; I'm just going to go do a final sweep."

"What?" Scott questioned, "Stiles, no. We all stay together, remember? The town's been cleared; your dad said so himself."

Stiles nodded, "Well, I just want to make sure." He looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he just started back for the Jeep.

"Stiles!" Scott called.

Stiles turned back to Scott and nodded reassuringly, "I'll catch up. I just need to be sure." When Scott finally accepted his resolve, he got into the Jeep and drove off, taking his last chance to catch a final glimpse of his friends in the rearview mirror.

About twenty minutes later he pulled into the Preserve and got out of the Jeep. He looked around with a sigh as he rocked on his heels, "God, I hope they forgive me for this." He blew out a low whistle as he slung his backpack over his shoulder before he started making his way to the Nemeton.

The tree almost looked foreboding as he approached it, as if it were daring him to follow through with his plan. He checked the time; thirty-five minutes had passed since he parted ways with the pack. They would have made it out of town by now, but he'd have to wait a little longer just to be sure. 

When an hour had passed since he'd left for the Preserve, Stiles' impatience got the better of him and he began pulling things from his backpack. He opened the jar of mountain ash and poured it out into a spiral on the Nemeton, then pulled out the dagger he'd used to kill the Phoenix. He cut into his palm and glided his hand over the spiral, allowing his blood to drip onto the mountain ash. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

This was the point of no return. As soon as the spiral was lit, the disempowerment would begin and there would be no stopping it. He took a moment to gather his thoughts as a tear rolled down his face, "I'm sorry, Dad," he croaked out before he lit a match and dropped it onto the outer end of the spiral. His eyes followed the flame as it traveled around until it reached the center of the spiral and it faded into a bright orange ember. The ground trembled, a dull thunder rumbling from beneath him as the ember started to grow brighter. He lifted the dagger over his head, aiming the end of the blade toward the spiral. As soon as it was reignited, he could end this whole mess once and for all.

"Stiles, don't!"

Stiles startled and spun around to face the direction of the voice, "Scott? What're you doing here? Dammit, you're supposed to be gone!"

"Yeah," Scott said stiffly as he drew closer to his best friend, "so are you." He cleared his throat, "There's no tsunami, is there?"

Stiles looked back to the Nemeton unwilling to face his best friend's disappointment, "It's the only way, Scott. If I don't do this then it'll never end. It'll just keep getting stronger until all of you have been consumed by its influence."

"But you've proven you can stop us. Remember Kira and Jordan?"

Stiles shook his head, "Scott, I've felt it inside me every day since this whole power mess started. For all I know, I could be the next one to lose control."

"You won't," he said with a confident chuckle, "Just don't do this, Stiles."

He shook his head with a watery sniffle, "Don't you see I have to? Why can't you understand that?" He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand, "This whole thing is my mistake...and only I can make it right."

Scott walked up to him and put a hand on his arm. When Stiles met his eyes, he saw his best friend, broken yet resolute in his stance. Scott glanced at the Nemeton before returning his gaze to Stiles, "Derek said that you only have to start it, that anyone else can finish it."

Stiles scoffed, "I knew I couldn't trust him with this."

"He didn't tell me your plan."

"Then how did you find out?"

"Ethan's back in town; probably to talk to Danny. He overheard yours and Derek's conversation here the other day and texted me." Scott revealed, "Stiles, I'm not going to let you do this."

"You don't have a choice, Scotty."

"You're wrong; there's always a choice," Scott said before he roared and tackled him to the ground. He gripped the dagger around Stiles' hand and ignored his friend's protests as they rolled on the ground. When he finally managed to get the dagger out of Stiles' grasp, the latter swung his hand and sent the werewolf a few feet back.

As Stiles started to get up and reached out for the dagger, Scott pounced into the air and took him to the ground again. This time, as Stiles rolled over him, Scott pressed his feet into Stiles' chest and pushed him away. The alpha quickly rolled over, grabbed the dagger and charged for the Nemeton.

As Stiles lay on the ground trying to recover from the wind being knocked out of him, Scott stared in awe at the intensely glowing spiral. He lifted the dagger, his eyes glowing red as he let out another roar.

Stiles moved up into a crouch and quickly looked around for Scott. His face paled when he found him standing over the Nemeton with the dagger, "Scott, no!" He flung out his hand to send him flying backwards, but he was too late.

As the spiral reignited into an intense red flame, Scott brought the dagger down and stabbed it into the center of it. A loud crack echoed around them as a bright blue wave of energy rushed out from the spiral and knocked Stiles back to the ground.

Scott's grip on the dagger intensified as he felt the energy--all of the Nemeton's energy-- surge through him. He shouted out in pain as a white aura began to form around him and the Nemeton; it felt like every fiber of his being was on fire. The last thing he heard was Stiles shouting his name, his voice fading into the bright white background.


	9. Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. The final chapter of the final story in the series. I've never posted a multi-chapter fic and completed it before, and now I have three that make a complete series. I got a little writers block toward the end, but I've come back to finish what I started and I want to say thank you to everyone who's stuck with me for the past few months since I posted 'Bird of Prey'. That feels like almost a lifetime ago...
> 
> Anyways, here we are. Enjoy!

"Scott!" Stiles shouted as he pushed himself off the ground and ran over to his friend's body. He slid into a crouch and pulled Scott's head into his arms, "Scott? Come on, man. Don't do this to me!" 

Tears slid down his face as he started shaking Scott's body, "No, dammit! This wasn't supposed to happen like this! Scotty, wake up..." His voice faded into sobs as he held his friend close. They both shook with the strength of Stiles' sobs until he pulled away and started hitting Scott's chest with his fist, "Wake up, dammit!"

But he didn't wake up. Stiles' mind started to drown in the flood of ideas that could be solutions, but none of them mattered. Everyone in Beacon Hills had evacuated, so taking him to the hospital or Deaton's was out of the question.

His sobbing stopped as he slowly lifted his head and scanned Scott with his eyes. The staff of the hospital had evacuated, not the hospital itself. That would be kind of funny, though; like, the hospital just standing up revealing legs no one ever thought it would have and saying, 'I'm not staying here for that.'

Focus, Stiles; Scott's kind of dying here. 

If he isn't already dead.

"Alright, Scotty," he said gruffly as he stood up and slung Scott's arm over his shoulder, "I'm going to get you to the hospital...and pray that I watched enough reruns of Doogie Houser." He grunted as he struggled to pull his friend's deadweight with him and paused to shoot him a glare, "If I can bring you back, I'm going to kill you."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"We should go back. We shouldn't be camping out in some run-down hotel," Jordan said as he slung his bag onto the bed.

"Did you forget the part where there's a tsunami headed for Beacon Hills?" Derek asked as he mimicked Jordan's action and then sat down on his own bed.

Jordan scoffed softly as he shook his head, "Don't try to act like you actually believe this has nothing to do with Stiles."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek denied.

"The hell you don't!" Jordan rebuked angrily as he turned around to face him with a glare, "If there was really a tsunami then Stiles would have been here by now, which tells me that he somehow magicked the whole thing to cover up something else." When Derek looked away everything seemed to click together, "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

"What?" Derek asked.

Jordan chuckled humorlessly as he angrily snatched up his bag and headed for the door, "I'm going back."

Derek quickly shot up from his bed and pushed his hand against the door to keep it shut, "And what're you going to do, huh?"

Jordan furrowed his brow, "I'm going to do what you should've done in the first place and stop him."

"There isn't any stopping Stiles, Parrish. He's probably already done it by now."

"So he's dead; is that it? You're awfully nonchalant about all of this, considering you supposedly love him."

"Oh, and I suppose you were hoping to be able to swoop in and be his hero?"

"Well, somebody has to be. Now get the hell out of my way."

"Make me," Derek ordered.

Jordan held a face-off with him for a moment before he took a step back, "He could still be alive, needing our help; or he could be dead, but you should have stopped him, Derek."

"I know," he said softly. He crossed his arms over his chest, "But he's Stiles and Stiles always finds a way to get what he wants. The powers don't help matters any, obviously."

Jordan watched him for a moment before he rolled his eyes, "Do you love him?"

Derek shook his head, "It's complicated."

"Not really; you either do or you don't. Which is it?"

Derek sighed heavily then rested his head against the wall, "I do."

"Then quit dancing around it like a maniacal leprechaun when he finds a pot of gold and do something about it."

Derek's brow furrowed, "Why are you trying to help me?"

"Because contrary to your twisted beliefs, I'm not in love with him. He's like the little brother I never had," Jordan clarified.

"You two were awfully cuddly for brothers," Derek said. When Jordan looked confuses he answered, "I never really left town. I saw you on his couch."

Jordan shrugged, "Wouldn't you give your family whatever they needed, no matter how small it seemed to you at the time?"

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"Gah!" Stiles grunted out when he finally got Scott's body into the Jeep. He slammed the door shut and fell back against it, breathing heavily. He eyed a stray stick on the ground and flicked his finger, but the stick remained where it was. 

The ritual worked. The Nemeton didn't have any power anymore...and neither did he. He pulled out his phone to text Derek and groaned when it wouldn't even turn on. It had a full charge when he reached the Nemeton, so the blast from the ritual must have fried it. He grumpily shoved it back into his pocket and walked around the Jeep to climb in the driver's side and peeled out of the Preserve.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Everything was brighter than it should be. The garden he was standing in, the grass, the sky, the clouds, the sun--it all glistened like he was standing in a dream. Was it a dream? He thought he was dead?

"Hello, Scott," a strong female voice said from behind him. 

When he turned around, he found himself facing a woman with long dark hair standing on the back patio of the Hale house. Scott swallowed back a gasp as he took a slow step forward, "T-Mrs. Hale?"

The woman smiled as she released a throaty chuckle, "Please, call me Talia. After all, it's not everyday you meet a True Alpha."

Scott shook his head, "I'm nowhere near the Alpha I heard you were."

"Oh, don't be so modest, Scott," Talia said as she descended the stair of the patio and crossed the yard to join him in the garden. "That was a very brave thing you did; sacrificing yourself to save Stiles. It worked, by the way." She smiled knowingly as she moved past him and crouched down to pull some weeds out of the ground, "You must be asking yourself why you're here."

"That's definitely one of my questions."

She laughed, "You're not dead, Scott. Your body is healing--rather slowly because of the disempowerment ritual, but healing nonetheless." She then stood up and turned to face him again, "Do you know why our house was in the woods, Scott?"

He shrugged, "Privacy, room to run?"

She nodded, "Yes, but also to guard the Nemeton. None of the children were told what it was until they came of age. Unfortunately, I was never able to tell Derek because of, well, you know. Anyways, the disempowerment ritual, though powerful, will only temporarily render Beacon Hills' Nemeton powerless. Can you tell me why?"

Scott furrowed his brow in thought then nodded, "I sacrificed myself for Stiles."

Talia smiled proudly, "And sacrifices are food to the Nemeton. You can only truly disempower it by starving it."

"I don't understand. Why would there be a disempowering ritual if it doesn't work?"

Talia gave him a pointed look, "Does it look like it didn't work? The ritual can only truly disempower a Nemeton if it hasn't been fully powered itself. Once a Nemeton has been brought to full power, any sacrifice of life will keep it going. If the Nemeton isn't fully powered, the ritual won't kill anybody. Death is a fully powered Nemeton's retribution."

Scott opened his mouth to speak when his chest involuntarily jerked forward. He groaned in pain as he brought his hands up and clutched his chest, "What's happening?"

"Someone must be using a defibrillator to bring you back. Scott, you must heed my warning: if Stiles uses his power to take a life, it will feed the Nemeton. If he wants to be free, if you all want to be free from the trouble it brings...you have to let it die. The ritual may not have completely disempowered it, but it did weaken it significantly. Do you understand?"

Scott nodded and his chest jerked again, "Ah!"

Talia rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, "It'll be less painful if you don't fight it. Oh, and before I forget, I need you to pass a message on to my son for me."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Jordan was pulled from his sleep by a knock on the door. He furrowed his brow as he pushed himself from the bed and padded over to the door, running his hand through his hair in a fruitless effort to wake up more. He pulled the door open, ignoring the chill of the night air as it pushed against his bare chest, "Sheriff?"

"Stiles just called me," he said in a tired voice. "He said his tire blew out and he had to replace it. The tsunami warning's also expired, so we have the clear to go home in the morning."

Jordan nodded before the Sheriff walked away. He took a step back and shut the door before he shook Derek, "Derek, wake up!"

"Wha-? What's going on?" he asked tiredly as he rolled over onto his back, "What time is it?"

"Time to go home," Jordan replied as he pulled on a shirt before he turned back to Derek, "Stiles just called his father."

Derek instantly sat up, "He's not dead?"

Jordan shook his head, "Nope. So, you can stay here and sleep if you want and catch a ride with the others tomorrow, or you can come with me right now."

Derek got off his bed and pulled his own shirt on, "Let's go."

"Wait," Jordan said after they exited the room, "if Stiles is alive, then that means he didn't stop the Nemeton. How do we know it's safe for us to go back without...you know?"

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose, "I sent Scott to stop him. Hopefully they figured something out."

As Derek walked away, Jordan watched him with a look of surprise before a smile crept upon his face. Evidently Derek didn't just leave Stiles to his devices after all. Hopefully no one lost their life in the process.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"Can you pick up a scent?" Jordan asked as they entered the hospital. After they'd discovered Stiles' phone was off, he'd called the Sheriff for the number he called from. 

"No," Derek replied as they headed for the elevator, "I'm more concerned with why they're here. If something happened to Scott--"

"Then Stiles brought him to the right place," Jordan intercepted as they entered the elevator. He hit the button for the next floor up, "We'll split up, each search a floor and take the next one as it's cleared. You take the odds, I'll take the evens. Whoever finds them first just finds an intercom and--"

"We're in room 24A, fourth floor, Mission Impossible." Stiles' voice said over the intercom.

As Jordan slowly cocked an eyebrow, Derek smirked and answered his unasked question, "Scott's werewolf hearing."

Stiles let out an exhausted groan when they entered the room a few minutes later, his head resting against the wall as he eyed them, "How ya doing?"

Jordan cut Derek off before he could answer, "Never do that again, got it?"

Stiles smirked weakly, "Give it a rest, Jordy. I learned my lesson." He looked down with a shrug, "Not like I'll be doing it again anyways."

Derek furrowed his brow, "So your powers are gone, too?"

Stiles nodded, "That's why we didn't just zap to you or whatever. It's a good thing they didn't cut the power to the hospital; we'd have lost Scott."

Scott smirked weakly as he struggled to push himself up, "It's a good thing I'm an alpha." He shook his head with a sigh, "I remember how strong that energy felt...you wouldn't have survived it, Stiles."

"Even an alpha wouldn't have survived that," Derek said as he took a seat in one of the few chairs in the room.

"I'm confused," Jordan said with a furrowed brow. He turned to look at Derek and then back at Scott, "If an alpha couldn't have survived, then how did Scott?"

"Just another piece of the puzzle that is the mystery of a True Alpha, Jordy," Stiles said through a sigh, "Don't overthink it; you'll give yourself a migraine."

Scott glanced back and forth between Stiles and Jordan before he settled his gaze on Derek. He inhaled deeply before he cleared his throat, "Guys? Do you mind if I talk to Derek alone for a few minutes?"

Stiles cocked a curious brow as he stared at Scott while Jordan exited the room. He slightly jerked his head toward Derek and furrowed his brow in question before he shrugged and left the room, pausing to pat Derek's shoulder on the way out.

Derek watched him leave before he turned back to Scott, "Thank you for stopping him."

Scott shook his head once with a smile, "He's my best friend; no thanks needed. That's...kind of what I wanted to talk to you about." He scratched the back of his head nervously, "He loves you."

Derek was slightly taken aback by his subtlety, but quickly masked it. He cleared his throat and nodded, "I know."

"And you love him," Scott stated.

That was when Derek suddenly found the hospital room more interesting than the conversation. Was this why Stiles seemed so easily distracted all the time? Was it an act to avoid awkward situations? That sneaky bastard...

"Derek?" Scott asked with a wave of his hand. His smile faded as he took on a more serious expression, "Don't force him to move on for the sake of your fear."

Derek's brow furrowed as he suddenly jerked his gaze in Scott's direction, "Where did you hear that?"

"You know where," he replied sympathetically. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked out the window, "She wants you to be happy, and I want Stiles to be happy. We live in a town where any one of us can be brutally murdered by some mythological creature from Egypt or something at any moment. So, what are you doing wasting time?"

Derek looked down at his feet, "I just think he could--"

"He could always find better--we all could, Derek. No matter how great we become, or how great someone thinks we are, there will always be someone better. Why do you think they call it 'settling down' when a couple moves in together? They choose the other person and settle for them because they don't want anyone better; they don't _need_ anyone better."

Derek shook his head, "I don't want to--"

Scott interrupted him with a roar as his eyes flashed red. When Derek straightened his posture, Scott's eyes faded back to brown, "You won't ruin anything. Stop being an idiot and go fix things--or I swear, as soon as I'm out of here, I will pimp him out if that's what it takes to get him past you. Either you be straight with him, or you leave him alone; stop stringing him along."

Derek huffed out a scoff before he shook his head and turned for the door, "I'm going to find Stiles."

"Yeah," Scott replied as Derek left, "good choice."

 

\--------------------------------------

Jordan offered to stay behind and keep an eye on Scott in case anything happened while Derek and Stiles went for a walk. Stiles looked over at Derek and squinted, "Not that I'm not enjoying walking around the block with you," he paused as he pivoted around to face Derek, "but why the urgency? What's going on?"

Derek chuckled nervously and absent mindedly rested his right hand on his left shoulder, "Well, you see...the thing is, I..."

Stiles laughed, "Derek, come on; use your words."

Derek's voice dropped as he took a step forward, "I'd rather just use this," he said as he put his hands on the sides of Stiles' face and planted a kiss on his lips. He softly growled as he gentled his grip, deepening the kiss as he allowed what he'd been denying himself for so long to finally happen.

Stiles gripped Derek's arms, falling into the kiss himself for another minute before he finally pulled away and gasped out, "Wait, for real this time?"

Derek smiled and gave a nod, "I was totally stupid and I just... I was afraid I'd lose you. I'm not really good with the feelings thing, but yes, for real this time. If you'll have me."

Stiles' lips curved into a sly smile as he lowered his hands to Derek's waist. He narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Actually, I always kind of pictured you having _me_ , if you get it." His eyebrow arched as he took a brief glance downward and smirked, "Good, you got it."

Derek snickered as he leaned in and spoke into Stiles' neck, "It can only get better from here."

"Ha!" Stiles retorted with a knowing smile, "we still have to tell my dad."

Derek's movements paused as his face paled and his eyes bulged, "Shit."

 

~~FIN~~


End file.
